Cut Through Fire
by slashALLthedisney
Summary: Lydia is assigned to a powerful mage who is as cold as the ice she wields. As they seek to destroy the world-eater, will their simple master-servant relationship turn into something more? Rated M for lovely violence, beautiful language, and eventually M-rated femslashing :D
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: This is my first fanfic, so go easy on me. I would love to get some feedback and critcisms. I know I tend to go all-out with my commas, so I'll try to work on that. ANYHOO, please enjoy this here fanfic.

Oh, and I don't own any of these characters. Except for my beloved OC. Thanks Bethesda...

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It wasn't a Nord, that much was for sure. Just, the stature and build was all wrong. And the fact that whoever it was, was dressed in strange robes that exuded a strong magical aura, pretty much ruled out any possibility of the giant being a Nord. Lydia couldn't hear whatever Farengar and the newcomer were discussing over in his alcove, but if it could keep Farengar's interest and not have him gnawing on someone's ego, then the person must be somewhat intelligent. Of course, they could be discussing some of their black magic, she mused.

What she _did_ surmise was that this individual was a woman. Inwardly, Lydia sighed in relief. Hopefully this particular Thane wouldn't be an ego-driven air head. More level. Mages were known for being studious, but wouldn't get their hands dirty. In fact, why was she here at all? Why the hell was there a new Thane?

Lydia took a breath to calm herself. Avenicci had called her here ranting some madness about dragons and how she was to look her best for her new assignment, but beyond that, she had very little information on her new charge.

She waited patiently for the new Thane to come out and greet her. She didn't have to wait long for out came the mage, followed by – Lydia hadn't noticed before – a dark elf mage who kept only a foot behind the Altmer. Elves. Of course. Lydia repressed a shudder.

Taking a deep breath once again, she strode forward.

"The Jarl has assigned me to be your housecarl. It is an honor to serve you."

The Altmer said nothing, but she did incline her partially concealed face forward just a tad – a nod of acknowledgement. Lydia's stomach crawled with nerves and irritation. Nerves because it was a bloody elf – probably worked for the Thalmor – and irritation because she had just been hired to put her head in front of an arrow for this woman, and all she got thus far was a nod.

"Aranea," the Altmer murmured. She placed her hand on her companion's shoulder and bent her head down to her ear. The dark elf nodded after the Thane had finished and took a step back.

"It has been an honor, Champion of Azura," she said with a deep bow. Without another word, the mage departed past Lydia and out of Dragon's Reach.

Champion of Azura? Did this woman serve Deadra? Great. This was just fantastic. A Deadra worshipping Thalmor mage.

Instead of saying anything, the mage appraised her new housecarl, trying to perhaps figure her out. Lydia shifted her weight. It was one thing to have a raving-mad bandit stare you down, but to have your superior do so was uncomfortable in many more ways. Emotionally unsettling.

"I believe the Jarl mentioned your name was Lydia," she said. She sounded like a definite pure-blooded Altmer who had spent a lot of time in Skyrim. "Though I am unsure if he mentioned to you my name."

"No, I'm afraid not," Lydia replied, hoping to get a name.

"All good and well. I recently purchased a residence here in Whiterun. Follow me."

_What the heck_? she thought to herself as she followed the mage down through the city. Everyone was awake, and as she passed a couple guards, she caught wind of what they were saying. Obviously, this woman had aided the Jarl, but beyond that Lydia couldn't fathom what was going on.

They stopped at a small home near Adrianne's shop. It looked cozy enough, Lydia assumed. It was Whiterun after all. The Altmer held the door open for Lydia who blushed at having been caught off guard. As housecarl, she should have gone in first and held the door open.

Once inside, Lydia soaked in the atmosphere. There were a couple boxes in the corners, but everything looked new and unused. The fire was fresh as though recently stoked, and even some fresh herbs had been hung up to dry over it.

"Feel free to take a seat, Lydia," the Altmer said, motioning towards the two chairs that sat around the fire. "Just let me unload some of these books. I don't have a bookcase of my own back at home." Lydia watched as the Altmer squatted to stuff as many books as she could onto the small bookshelf. "Of course, you are free to read whatsoever pleases you."

"Thank you…" Lydia hoped she would get the hint.

"Mm, call me Sirsha, if you will," she said, glancing over her shoulder. She quickly returned to her task.

"Thank you, Thane Sirsha."

"Just Sirsha will do. Now, is there anything you would like to eat?"

She stood up, pulling her mage hood back as she did so. Waves of midnight hair fell past her shoulders and spilled over her chest. Glowing golden eyes sat on sharp cheekbones. Her ears poked out through the top of her hair, and her lips were a deep maroon, almost black. Spiraling war paint danced around her eyes as she flashed a constrained smile towards her new servant.

"Please allow me to cook for you, Thane," Lydia interjected, suddenly feeling inadequate in every way before the tall, slender mer.

"Lydia, it's Sirsha," she sighed. "Now, what do you want to eat?"

"Er…" Being a Nord, Lydia tended to like her mead and meat. She didn't quite know what her new Thane – Sirsha – what Sirsha liked. "I'll eat whatever you feel like making."

"Mm, very well." She paused for a moment, cocking her head to the side. "Say, could you help me? I have all these ingredients I need stored away. There's an alchemy lab here somewhere from what I'm told…"

A small amount of relief washed through Lydia at the thought of having a task to do. Sitting around while someone made her food was _not_ high on her list of priorities. Sirsha unclipped a bulging apothecary satchel from her waist and passed it to Lydia who meandered to the back of the house where a set of double doors was closed. Opening it, she found the aforementioned alchemy lab. She glanced around trying to find out where she wanted to put everything. She opted for the huge chest on top of the study bookcase.

Lydia had no idea what alchemy's finer details were, but after opening the satchel, she didn't think she would ever want to know. There were mushroom stalks, butterfly wings, dead bugs, and dried plants crammed into the small pouch. If Sirsha weren't in the next room cooking, Lydia would have sneered and perhaps chucked everything out the window. But she was obligated to put these…contents...into this chest here.

She was just about finished assembling the plethora of ingredients when Sirsha poked her head in.

"Dinner is ready, if you're still hungry," she said. Her eyes flicked to the chest and back to Lydia. "Horker Loaf and potato soup."

"Thank you," Lydia said, a bit taken back. The meal was so normal. So Nordic. She got to her feet and followed Sirsha to the kitchen where said food sat out on the small table by the fire. Lydia waited for her Thane to be seated and then took a seat herself.

"Here." Sirsha passed a bottle of mead to Lydia. "Enjoy."

Lydia ate her a few bites before the question she had been dying to ask all this time finally broke the mutual silence between the two women.

"My Thane, I must know, what is it that you have done to ascend to this title?" she asked as respectfully as she could.

"It's Sirsha," she sighed but then shook her head a tad. "I happened to look like an able-bodied gopher for the Jarl and his court wizard. I retrieved that which they asked, and no sooner had I arrived when I was asked to fight off a dragon. I shot off a bit of lightening here and there, and helped kill it. Since Irileth already had a title, the Jarl decided to give me one, and here we are."

The story seemed too full of holes. As though several pieces were missing. Several important pieces. Of course, it explained Irileth's behavior earlier today and Farengar's attitude. But it didn't explain some other things. Like the thunderous sound that resonated through Whiterun. Nevertheless, Lydia stayed quiet, only nodding her head as they returned to their food-filled silence.

"You had best get some rest, Lydia. We have a big day tomorrow." Sirsha stretched and yawned, tugging at her robes.

Lydia glanced out the window, noticing how dark it was outside. She got up and bowed to her Thane.

"What time do you wish to be ready…Sirsha?"

"Oh? We probably won't leave until about ten in the morning. Please don't feel pressured to rise before me, as I feel it might be a challenge even for you."

She smiled and made her way upstairs, her soft boots padding against the wooden stairs. Lydia stared after her and then returned to the fire, stoking it. Something wasn't adding up. Why couldn't the Thane just hang around Whiterun for a few days? Of course, Lydia was kind of glad that they would be going, but she was still a little apprehensive about traveling with an elf. It felt wrong in so many ways.

Shaking her head, she headed upstairs. Breezehome was small, and her room was on the left. Lydia glanced over to her right and saw a beautiful staff with a blue orb mounted on a weapon plaque. Lydia shuffled over to it, checking to see if the Thane's bedroom door was closed. Light spilled out from underneath, but she was probably going to go to sleep in a few minutes, Lydia reasoned.

She pulled off her boots and laid them by her door. She made towards the staff, almost afraid to touch it. She could feel its power without even touching it, and even though she had no desire to deal with magic, this particular staff felt special and alluring. She longed to touch it.

Her fingers were only inches away when the light spilled out onto the second floor loft followed by a sharp clang of magical armor.

"Lydia? What are you doing?"

"Um, nice staff?" Lydia felt so ashamed. It hadn't even been 24 hours, and already she was dead. To anyone, especially her Thane, it looked like she had been about to steal the staff.

"Ah, that one," she scowled. "I assumed since you didn't have any magical affinity that it wouldn't affect you. I apologize."

Lydia then noticed that the Thane wasn't wearing much in the way of clothing. She was covered in a green glow of armor and had her small clothes, but that was it.

"My Thane!" Lydia squeaked, averting her eyes.

"Oh," Sirsha said, glancing down at her own indecency. "Well, I, uh, um, I'll be… um…"

Lydia turned around and faced her room, trying to keep a blush from burning up to her face. She could already feel it eating her neck. She both wanted to apologize for her lack of control and for seeing her all but nude Thane, but she could not escape punishment.

"A-anyways," Sirsha managed, "this staff has procured more dangerous attractions than what you experienced. Now that you know its dangers, I trust that you can defend against it. You seem capable enough. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"Yes, Thane; thank you, Thane."

Lydia rushed to her room and slammed the door behind her. She heard the click of the double doors as the other woman retired to her chambers. She felt so ashamed. As she removed her heavy, steel armor, she vowed to make it up in the morning. She _would_ rise early, and she _would _prepare everything for their journey. She still felt uneasy about serving the Altmer, but this one didn't seem _too_ bad.

She awoke several hours later to the smells of something acrid. Panicked, she threw on a decent shirt and rushed downstairs in search of the burning smell. Her nose led her to the alchemy room where Sirsha stood, bent over the table completely immersed in her work. While Lydia was relieved that everything looked okay, she was still upset that she hadn't been the first to awaken. She decided that she would stoke the fire and prepare them a healthy breakfast.

She backed out of the lab and into the kitchen, searching through cabinets and drawers for food. She found moonsugar, mead, cheese, and all sorts of vegetables, but little meat. Stupid Altmer eating habits. Moonsugar, though, wasn't Altmer. It _was_ illegal. Lydia paused. No, she shouldn't say anything. Of course, if she reported this, she wouldn't have to serve this Altmer anymore. Sirsha would be jailed in two seconds flat.

"I hope I didn't wake you," Sirsha said as she made her way to the cooking pot where Lydia was holding ingredients. "Just, back home, I always practiced my god-awful alchemy in the mornings. I like a rhythm."

"M-my Thane," Lydia stammered, bowing low. She felt silly for not having put on more than just a man's dress shirt and her sleeping trousers. Already, Sirsha was in her mage robes and boots, though her hood was down. "I want to apologize for last evening. I cannot express –,"

"Lydia, hand me those items, please," Sirsha interrupted her, hand extended. Lydia placed said items in her golden hands. Sirsha started measuring out quantities and throwing them in the cooking pot. "When I was but a mere novice mage, my then classmate and dear friend was practicing conjuration. Or alteration, I still have no idea what in Nirn she was attempting, but she had good intentions, I'm sure. A few days after she turned me a horrid shade of green, she tried to…do something else. I ended up as a cow. And a horse, a rabbit, I think a mammoth for a few seconds as well. It was unpleasant. My mouth tasted like grass for a week."

She stirred the pot, pulling her hair out of the way as she did so. She took a couple sniffs and threw in some salt.

"What I'm trying to say is, things happen. Sometimes they are in your control, and other times they are not. Also, magic is fickly affinity. And I don't blame you or harbor any ill will towards you. So, it is in your best interest to get over it and try some of this glorious fondue J'zargo taught me to make."

Lydia didn't know what to say. Apparently the new Thane didn't really want to dwell on things. Or maybe she was passive aggressive and waiting to catch Lydia with a toe out of line. It would be fitting for an Altmer…

The fondue – Elswyr Fondue – turned out to be amazing. And not poisoned, except for the moonsugar, which wasn't really a poison until refined into skooma anyways. This Altmer had hook-ups with the Khajit, obviously. Probably ran some underground drug trades.

"So, Lydia, is there anything you need before we go out traveling? Weapons? A helmet? Potions? Snacks? Anything? Because from here to our destination, I doubt we'll find a real town."

"You haven't told me where we're going yet," Lydia dared say.

"And you haven't answered my question," she shot back with a sparkle in her eyes.

Lydia rolled her eyes. This was going to be fun.

"I could do with a battle-axe, I suppose, but I'm trained with a sword and shield."

"Good, thank you. Now, to answer _your_ question, we are heading next door to the blacksmith's for equipment." She smiled, flashing her white teeth. "Get dressed, please. I kind of want to head out now. Get all my shopping down before we leave officially."

"Yes, Thane." Lydia got up from her chair to put on her armor. Shopping. She hated shopping, and this _elf_ was the exact opposite of her. As she finished adjusting all the buckles on her attire, she clanked down the wooden stairs looking for the Thane.

"Lydia! Do you care for Dwarven weaponry?!"

Apparently, Sirsha had gone upstairs to her room. Lydia jogged back upstairs and peeped around the corner into the master room. Sirsha had a trunk wide open and dozens of items scattered across her bed. She was currently struggling with a large Dwenmer battle-axe. Lydia raced forward before the mage could hurt herself.

"Thank you. Do you like it? I don't think it's been used in a while, well, aside from when I had to smash that damn Centurion. But before that, I mean. Go ahead, give it a few swings."

It was heavy, but well balanced, that much Lydia could tell. She had waited _years_, dreaming of ever getting her hands on something this pricey and ornate. And suddenly a mage shows up lugging one out of her chest asking her if she wanted one.

"I totally forgot I had that with me, but if you don't like it, we can get you another one. Steel is good too, from what they say."

"No, this – this is beautiful," Lydia replied. She gazed at the ornate artistry in the handle and the geometric blade.

"Wonderful. That means I can sell all of this…clutter." Sirsha started tossing animal pelts – Lydia even saw a couple saber cat pelts – and miscellaneous weapons into the large trunk on the floor. "Shall we?"

Lydia nodded, and the two left Breezehome. Lydia quickly realized that by "shopping," Sirsha really meant "sell-off-every-useless-gem-and-piece-of-armor-I-h ave-to-swindle-money-out-of-Belethor." The woman sold at least 10 sets of fur armor and at least a half dozen mage robes before leaving. This only solidified Lydia's thoughts about her Thane running with the thieves.

At Warmaiden's they sold off several daggers and more armor. It was insane, the amount of _stuff_ that the Thane carried around with her. Once finished around town, Sirsha nodded towards the oddly friendly guards and exited the still waking city.

"Will you need a horse?" Sirsha asked, not bothering to glance over her shoulder.

"I will not ride, if you do not, my Thane."

"Hm?"

"I shan't ride if my Thane does not."

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand. There's this T-word in your sentences that disrupts the entire flow."

Lydia blushed, realizing that Sirsha wanted to be Sirsha. Not a Thane.

"No thank you, Sirsha."

"Why didn't you say so?" she laughed back. Ushering her companion forward, they headed east until they came to a fork in the road where sat two bridges and a small road leading south. "Hm. I'm feeling that we should go the Northern route. Come."

They crossed the bridge right in front of them. Sirsha had a thing for harvesting any flower or insect she could get her hands on. Her recently emptied apothecary satchel was beginning to bulge again, and Lydia feared that they had a long journey in store. They passed a bandit camp, that Sirsha made note of on her map. It was already littered with X's in the north up near Winterhold and Dawnstar, Lydia noticed. It wasn't until Sirsha whipped out her hands in a casting stance that Lydia felt nervous. They were out in the middle of a rarely used road, and she could easily be murdered by this elf.

The elf summoned a shield of green around her body with a sharp click and nearby a fiery creature appeared with an equally sharp clang. Lydia froze only for a moment but then drew her new battleaxe from her back. The mage's hands crackled with lightening as she strode down the road, glancing up at a knoll on their left.

"Standing stone up there," Sirsha nodded. "I bet it's guarded too."

Ah. Okay, that explained something. Like how Lydia would mysteriously die.

"Let's go." Sirsha jogged up the hill, readying a blast of lightening. Lydia tried to keep pace, but her heavy armor kept her behind. She had to be in front of her Thane, right? Right?!

There was a scream and blue light. Lydia came up behind her Thane and saw two skeleton soldiers charging at the mage and her summoned creature. Blasts of lightening and fire flew towards a bearded Breton who was dancing around the standing stone. He was outnumbered and outplayed, she saw. Lydia let her Thane deal with the Breton and turned her attention to the skeleton. This, she could handle.

With a grunt, she sliced through its slender ribcage. The frail creature collapsed into a pile of ashes and bones. She heard another scream as the Breton crumpled to the ground, his skin on fire. The other skeleton immediately turned to dust, and Sirsha began picking through the remains. She easily stripped off the mage's robes and stuffed them in her bag.

_So that's where she gets her stuff_, Lydia thought. It was a little gruesome, but better than drug trades.

Without breaking a stride, Sirsha took off at a mad pace down the hill and back to the main road. There was a huge explosion and yelping as two wolves burst into flames. Lydia swallowed. She had seen mages wield the elements before, but not so powerfully. The most she had seen was a stream of weak fire or frost. This woman made explosions just because she wanted to. Lydia realized she would be dead three times over if this mage wanted her dead.

They continued their long journey until Sirsha was stopped by some bandit at the Valtheim towers.

"This is a toll gate," the lady said, folding her arms over her chest. "If you want to cross or pass, you have to pay the fine."

Lydia watched Sirsha ignore the woman and pull out a mask. From what she could see, it was shale-coloured and looked quite bland, but of obvious Nordic heritage. Why would an Altmer mage wear that?

"Move now, and no one gets hurt," Sirsha growled. Her voice sounded foreign and distorted under the mask.

"You can't tell me what to do!" the bandit cried out, whipping out a particularly nasty looking blade.

She didn't stand a chance. As Lydia was drawing her own battleaxe, an icebolt froze the bandit right in the throat. She crumpled to the ground. Lydia heard shouting as she followed her Thane up the tower. Already, the mage had summoned her armor and her fire beast. She only paused to pick up some loot before rushing the stairs. Lydia could only watch as a one of the bandits was blown sideways off the side of the first tower. While her Thane was dealing with the melee bandits, Lydia decided to fend off the archers on the other side of the river. She watched as a random fiery explosion killed all but one rabid bandit charging the bridge.

Sirsha, she noticed, had turned her attention to the bandit chief, but with barely any effort, a blast of fire blew the now lifeless corpse backwards, skidding into the two other bodies. Lydia shook her head, trying to fend off the arrows raining down on her. She managed to land an arrow, or she guessed she did. She didn't see any more arrows coming this direction.

She jogged up the ramp and searched for her charge. A body fell down in front of her, and she threw herself inside the first tower to avoid the blood that splattered on the stone. This was insane. Bodies just kept flying, and Sirsha didn't seem to notice. Or care. She probably noticed.

Said mage dropped down just outside the door and sprinted across the bridge. Lydia struggled to keep up. Yes, she had seen battles and killed several times, but not alongside someone who was so independent. Not alongside someone who didn't need her. Lydia was oftentimes considered the best of the best. But now, now she felt useless. Lydia barely made it in time to see and feel a hot fire blow the rocks off the side of the cliff.

Sirsha was standing over the remainder of the cliff looking oddly at peace. Her mage robes caught the drifts of wind that lazily flew in, carrying the scent of death, fire, and electricity. Lydia waited for her Thane to move, but she only reached up to removed her mask. Her black hair clung to the sides of her face, and Lydia kept waiting for the mage to do something.

After what felt like forever to be looking at a waterfall, Sirsha turned around, face impassive.

"No more stops. I want to get this over with," she said, pushing past Lydia.

_I have no idea what happened. Nor do I have any idea where we're going,_ Lydia thought as she followed the mage back to the main road. The sun was high in the sky, and the mage didn't show any signs of slowing. They passed several caves and even put down a couple saber cats. Needless to say, Lydia's new battleaxe didn't see much action. Sirsha simply obliterated anyone that came near. Lydia knew that the path they took would lead them to Riften, but why they didn't take a carriage was beyond her.

They came to a fork once again. Sirsha pulled out her map to glance at the road and the road signs. Lydia decided to be helpful and march ahead down the path to Riften, but didn't hear any feet behind her. She glanced back to see the Thane taking the road to –

"Ivarstead? There isn't anything_ in_ Ivarstead!" Lydia called to the jogging mage. She had to struggle to catch back up. "Unless you're a pilgrim, _no one_ goes to Ivarstead."

Sirsha didn't respond, but kept mushing up the hill and along the switchbacks. Seriously, if something happened out here, they were both dead. And no one but the wolves would find their bodies. Yes, so far they had been able to handle themselves fairly well against everything Skyrim had thrown at them, but there was always a chance that a stray pack of bandit marauders would ambush them.

Lydia finally caught up to the mage who had slowed her pace some. Her hands were green, readying some spell perhaps. Looked like one of her Alteration spells, but Lydia couldn't be sure. Lydia didn't want her to cast some half-cooked spell of impatience, so she grabbed her thane's arm, pulling her back. Unprepared, Sirsha stumbled back into Lydia.

"What the hell?" Sirsha snapped.

"Tell me where we're going!" Lydia snapped back. "We're out in the middle of the wild, and if anything happens, I think I deserve to know _why_."

"Get off of me." She wrested herself out of Lydia's arms and took some steps back, completely flustered. She pouted for a few seconds, trying to break Lydia's resolve with her own stubbornness. When it was apparent that Lydia wasn't going to move, Sirsha took off down the road, not caring if her housecarl followed or not.

"You want to know where we're headed?" Anger dripped from her words like hot, fresh blood. "We're headed to High Hrothgar. Happy?"

Lydia had to shake herself back to reality. The Greybeards. The great thunderous sound that had shook all of Whiterun a couple days ago. It was them summoning…the Dragonborn.

"But-but, _why_?" Lydia asked half to herself.

"Because they seem to think I'm some fucking _Dragonborn_ here to rescue their sorry hides," Sirsha snapped. "Now let's keep going. I want to reach that bloody fort before the morrow, even if we travel all night."

The threat of traveling all night unnerved Lydia. In the light of the sun, they had encountered numerous enemies. At night, they wouldn't be able to see any of them. But if Sirsha was the legendary Dragonborn, she wouldn't have a problem cutting down anyone. It made sense, now, what Avenicci was raving about and why the Jarl had chosen this Altmer as Thane of Whiterun. Having the Dragonborn represent your city was priceless.

"Dragonborn!" Lydia exclaimed. "Such a thing – such an honor has not been had in centuries!"

"Can we just not talk about it?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because maybe I like being normal? It's bad enough being the Archmage of the College. Everyone either fears me to death or reveres me so much I can't have a normal conversation. And if this is such an honor, shouldn't it be a Nord who receives this honor? Not some high elf like the ones trying to rip their homes from them. By the Nine, this is so messed up."

"I-I'm sorry," Lydia stammered. Archmage. She deserved the title. And now Dragonborn. Both were fearsome titles. How did Aranea stand to be around someone so powerful? "I didn't know you felt that way."

"Well, now you do. So, can we drop it?" They continued in silence, finally arriving in Ivarstead at dusk. The town was so quiet and boring. Obviously, nothing happened in this bleak little town. Lydia really wanted to stop at the local inn, but the Altmer made no sign of slowing.

There was no way she was going to make it. Seven Thousand Steps. At night. In the cold. Tired. No, nope, no way.

"On your way up the Seven Thousand Steps again, Klimmek?" a Dumnar asked his friend.

"Seven Thousand Steps?" Sirsha halted, not even stepping onto the bridge to the insanely tall mountain.

"Of course," the Nord responded. "I make a trip up there every so often to deliver some supplies to the Greybeards. They don't get out much. But yeah, it's a long climb."

"What should I look out for on my way up?"

"Eh, spiders, ice wolves, trolls and the like. Sometimes ice wraiths depending on the season," Klimmek responded.

"I see. Well, I can help you with that trip, if you want. I mean, I'll make the trip in the morning, but I can still take it for you."

Lydia glanced over at her Thane. It didn't seem really like something she would do. She gave off such a cold vibe, it felt _wrong_ for her to offer her services to ordinary people. But, it would explain why she was _the_ Archmage of the College. Maybe pulled some favors or something. Lydia was also relieved that they would get some rest at the inn.

Klimmek picked up a large bag that was leaning against the side of the bridge and handed it to the mage. Sirsha nodded and turned around, heading back down the road to the local inn. Once inside, she paid for a room and led them inside, closing the door behind them.

The room was spacious enough for a rental space, but only had one bed and one chair. The bed was a double sized one – Sirsha wouldn't pay for anything less than the best, it seemed. Sirsha threw the bag of Klimmek's supplies under the table and collapsed into the chair, throwing her head back.

Likewise, Lydia sat on the foot of the bed, tempted to just recline back onto the lush furs. She really wanted to pull off the heavy armor. She was sweating now that she was inside the warm inn and out of the evening chill. She glanced back over at Sirsha who hadn't moved an inch. Lydia sighed as her stomach rumbled. She would need to buy them some dinner. She pushed herself up and strode out to find the innkeeper, purchasing some venison and apple pie for a few septims.

She reentered their room to see her Thane placing the Nordic mask on the table. Lydia studied it before realizing it was the mask of Dragon Priest.

"That mask," she started.

"Morokei," Sirsha murmured. "He was the one I defeated to obtain not only this mask, but that staff back at Breezehome. And I subsequently became the Archmage."

"Ah."

"Savos Aren didn't deserve it. And Mirabelle…," Sirsha's eyes glazed over as she receded into her own memories.

"I-I'm sorry, my Thane. I wish there was…some way I could share your burdens, as I am so sworn." Her original dislike of the elf had lessened quite a bit since having been near her all day long.

"It is no matter," she said, snapping back to reality. "Let us retire. I feel as though tomorrow will be quite long."

Sirsha got up and pulled her robes over her head, revealing her slender frame. Lydia wanted to avert her eyes but ended up staring a bit longer than what was appropriate. It was true, what they said. That Altmer had golden skin. Sirsha had a nearly perfect golden tone. Now that there wasn't a coating of green floating across her skin, Lydia saw a winding white, flower pattern that almost looked like a lightening tattoo. With a start, she realized it was a scar.

Lydia had plenty of scars all up her arms and legs from blades and tripping on things in her early years. But to have such an elegant and painful looking ornament on her body made her skin tingle. Shaking her head, she started untying the strings on her armor. When she finished placing it all next to the small table she threw on an oversized shirt and trousers.

"You Nords have such frigid temperatures," Sirsha grumbled, furs pulled up around her slim frame.

"If I could warm this place for you, I would, my Thane. But alas, my powers are not like yours," Lydia laughed, sinking into her chair with a slice of pie in hand. Being a native of this region, she had grown used to the harsh weather and endless winters. Being cold was being stuck in the glaciers of Northshore in the middle of a blizzard.

"C-can I ask a favor of you?" Sirsha began hesitantly. The last bit came out muffled as she pulled more furs up to her face.

"I am at your service, my Thane."

"C-could you sleep next to me?" The last bit of the sentence was so high pitched that Lydia had to focus on swallowing so she wouldn't choke. Well, the entire sentence was questionable.

Lydia felt conflicted. On one hand, she wanted her Thane to repeat herself, just to make sure she had heard right. On the other hand, if what she had heard was correct and she asked again, then her Thane would feel rejected, and that wouldn't help anyone get anywhere. Lydia finished her slice of pie and rose stiffly from her chair.

Her throat felt tight as she slipped under the few sheets left for her to use. Sirsha was still wrapped in the majority of them. Without warning, the mage turned over and clung to the oversized shirt Lydia was wearing. She felt Sirsha shivering like a leaf in the wind and pulled her closer. Sirsha's fingers were like icicles. Lydia also quickly realized as she wrapped her arms around her balled-up Thane, that Sirsha didn't wear much in the way of clothing when it came to sleeping.

A flashburn blush raced up her neck as she squirmed next to the warming body. Searching fingers pulled her closer, and long legs began to weave with her own. A cold nose buried itself in her chest, and Lydia had little choice but to rest her chin on the black hair spilled over the pillows. It was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hey guys **____** So, I wanted to update about once a week, but that turned into a no-can-do. For starters, this week was jam packed full of unforeseen events. Anyhoo, thanks for the follows, and hope you like dis. I should prolly put in some disclaimers like "all dis belongs to Bethesda" but whatever. I think my financial state is evidence enough of that…**_

_**Um, if someone wants to be a Beta, I'd love you forever :D Please leave a w-4 and your firstborn for the job. Maybe an arm and a leg if that's not too much.**_

Lydia stirred when she heard people performing morning chores in the main body of the inn. She laid in bed for a couple moments, contemplating waking up and buying some breakfast. Or hunting for some. She had noticed a couple deer on the edge of the town as they were arriving last evening. Or salmon. The venison from last night wouldn't be too good this many hours later.

Lydia tried to stretch but quickly realized the problem with that. Encasing her back – spooning her and clinging to her body desperately – was a half-naked Altmer.

_Great,_ thought Lydia, _not only is she clingy, but she's the big spoon._ Lydia tried to extricate her limbs from the golden ones wrapped in and around her shirt, but it was proving most difficult. Especially when sharp nails dug into her stomach and drew her inwards. Lydia bit back a yelp as she felt their sting. Hot breathe tickled the back of her neck, and feeling her Thane's golden body pressed against hers wasn't exactly a good way to start off the day.

Holding her breathe, Lydia tried to pry the hand off of her abdomen, but the moment she did, the Altmer bolted up, scoring Lydia across the stomach. Lydia hissed as blood welled up on the cat-scratches. Meanwhile, the Altmer's eyes were wild, frantically searching for whatever had woke her up. She had a lethal dose of lightening concentrated in her palm, but when she realized no one else was in the room, she absorbed the power and turned her attention to her injured housecarl.

"What happened? Lydia, are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks, ow. I'm okay. Just a bit sudden is all," Lydia replied, shirt pulled up halfway and poked the red edges of the scratches.

"I-I don't know why I did that," Sirsha stammered as she pushed Lydia's hand out of the way and brushed her fingers parallel to the wound. "Here, let me help. I know a spell."

"It should be fine." Lydia was fine with Sirsha using her magic on enemies, but she was hesitant to let any magic touch her. "I just need to clean it up is all."

"Lydia." Her voice was hard now. No longer was it the fretting chirps of a flighty elf. It was the tone of someone who expected her orders to be followed.

"Yes, Sirsha," Lydia grumbled back, knowing the battle was lost based on her sworn oaths alone.

Sirsha wasted no time in conjuring up a golden light to envelop the Nord's stomach. Lydia bit back a sigh as the heat mended her wounds and traveled up her spine to her brain, numbing any pain or discomfort associated with stitching skin back together. When Sirsha had finished playing doctor, Lydia glanced back down. Only faint pink lines remained, and Lydia was sure they would disappear in time.

"The lines will disappear after a day or so," Sirsha said as she pushed herself off the bed. Instead of putting some clothes on, she looked at the pie from last night. "Is this pie still good, you think?"

"It shouldn't be too stale," Lydia said. She let her shirt drop back down. It never felt so good to be covered in clothing. She too scrambled off the bed and went to grab her armor.

"Good." Without another word, the elf began eating almost the entire pie. "Mm, I forgot about dinner last night."

Lydia chose not to say anything as she tightened the straps on her breastplate. It wasn't her place to tease the Thane about her eating habits. However, Lydia was hungry, and old meat didn't sound too appealing. Once they had both gotten dressed, Lydia seized her opportunity to purchase a couple apples from the innkeeper and gorged herself on the much needed nutrients. She reentered their rented room to see Sirsha throwing Klimmek's supply bag over her shoulder.

"Well, let's get this shit over with," the elf grumbled, pushing past Lydia. Was being the Dragonborn of legend really so bad that it completely changed her demeanor? Lydia shook her head and followed the mushing elf out the door and into the crisp morning air.

When they arrived at the bridge, Sirsha paused and gazed up into the clouds where the white tip of the mountain was hidden. Lydia waited for her Thane to continue, and after another moment of psyching herself for the arduous trek, the mage took the first step.

The path was all switchbacks covered with crumbling rocks used for steps. On more than one occasion, Lydia caught sight of the mage slipping on the ice-coated stones, but refrained from offending her with help. Sirsha had even demanded that she carry the huge bag of supplies _all_ the way up the mountain, and was loathe to impart her burden to anyone.

When they began to encounter some of the hostile wildlife, Lydia took point and hacked through every creature they came across. She had a little difficulty with an ice wolf, but was able to avoid its sharp teeth in time to line up a good swing to the neck. After that, it was mostly the slippery journey upwards.

They finally approached a rocky passage of sorts, and the hairs on the back of Lydia's neck rose. Something was wrong. She held up a hand for Sirsha to stop and drew her battleaxe. There was a muffled thump and a sharp clang as Sirsha prepared herself for whatever danger lie ahead.

Lydia crouched low and poked her head around the corner in search of whatever had set off her alarm. There was nothing on the ground, but she caught sight of a jumping white troll on top of the rocks up ahead. She bit back a gasp as it roared at her and beat its chest. It leapt off the miniature cliff and charged, covering the distance between them rather quickly. As Lydia prepared to fend off the giant claws, a fiery atronach swept past her and hurled a couple fireballs at the frost troll.

It didn't last three hits. With a soft exhale, the atronach crumpled and exploded. Lydia braced herself for the inevitable. Just as more fire raced past her and hit the angry troll. It roared as its skin began to bubble and fizz under the intense heat. Lydia tried to move out of the way as the mage behind her hurled a fiery death at the beast. Lydia watched the careful footwork as the mage lined her shots up perfectly with the weakening troll. All through the blazing slaughter, the mage's neutral face didn't change once.

When the beast finally died, Sirsha stalked up to the body and nudged it with her foot. The blackened meat didn't budge. Without further ado, she bent down and pulled out a small vial in which she put an extract of…troll fat. Lydia cringed even outwardly. Just one of the things she had probably put away back in Breezehome.

They continued on without any exchange and soon came across a huge fortress in the mountains. Lydia placed her hands on her hips to gaze and the huge mass of rock. Like hell did that place look welcoming. It was cold, gray, and a freakin stone building on the highest mountain in Skyrim in the most untraveled region as well.

Lydia had to catch up with the mage who was already climbing the steps to High Hrothgar. She watched her open a large chest and throw in the bag of supplies she had hauled all the way up this arduous mountain trail. Sirsha still didn't say anything as she headed up the stairs and opened the doors to the Greybeards' abode.

It was dark and smelly, Lydia noted immediately. It _smelled_ like old people. It _looked_ like only old people lived here. There was no _soul_ either. She suppressed a sigh as four old gasbags shuffled to her Thane. And though they were the renowned Greybeards and could probably shout her into microscopic pieces in seconds, she still kept her guard up lest the geezers decide to unleash some unbeknownst power.

"At last, a Dragonborn appears at this moment in the turning of an age," called out the voice of a man on his deathbed. He, like his companions, sported a disgustingly tangled beard of such a drab gray. Lydia had to lock her face into a stone formation to keep her lip from curling. The Companions would sometimes have bad weeks, but this was just wrong.

"I've answered your summons, master," Sirsha murmured with a slight bow.

"We will see if you truly have the gift," he continued, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Show us, Dragonborn. Let us taste of your voice."

He took a couple steps back from the mage. Sirsha frowned ever so slightly at his command. Lydia wasn't sure exactly what it would be like to hear Sirsha shout, but if the legends were true, and if what Ulfric did to Torig was true as well, then this could be dangerous. Arngeir waited patiently for Sirsha to do something.

_Then_, Lydia thought, _what happens if she isn't able to shout? _It was obvious that Sirsha wasn't going to shout. If she was, she was going to be forced to.

"Your voice cannot hurt us, Dragonborn," the old man reassured her. Lydia watched Sirsha's hand twitch with irritation, though not much else changed her stoic demeanor. The room was silent save for the crackling of fire and wind whistling past the windows.

Finally, Sirsha straightened her back and pushed back her shoulders. With a deafening "FUS," Arngeir stumbled backwards several feet. Lydia reflexively brought her fists up though the visible tunnel of power that flew from her Thane's mouth was not even pointed in her direction. Lydia had still been able to feel the stone under her feet vibrate with the power.

"Dragonborn," Arngeir breathed. "It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards. Now, tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come here?"

"I have merely answered the summons, Master," Sirsha responded. Her voice was void of any emotion, and she kept herself ramrod straight.

"You have shown that you are Dragonborn. You have the inborn gift. But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? That remains to be seen."

It was as though he didn't see _the Archmage _robes on her. It was as though she hadn't climbed up the world's tallest mountain after slaughtering a dragon only a couple days before. Of course she had the discipline and temperament to "follow the path." These old geezers! If only they knew the power her Thane wielded.

Resisting shaking her head, Lydia observed the rest of the activity in silence. It was like she wasn't even there for any of it. Like Sirsha really didn't care if Lydia was there or not. She was obviously doing well enough on her own, learning the shouts "like a true master." Even in the courtyard, Sirsha rapidly gained understanding of whatever shout she was to learn. When the Greybeards at last deemed her ready, Arngeir approached the stoic mage.

"Find the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller," he said. "Remain true to the path of the Voice."

Sirsha only nodded and bid Lydia follow. Though it was obvious Arngeir wanted to say more, he could tell that Sirsha wanted to be gone from this place. Lydia was only too happy to oblige. It was much colder up here than anywhere else too. She could only imagine how frozen the mage was.

Sirsha didn't even look back as she stalked past the Greybeards and began down the mountain.


	3. Chapter 3

_**So, I had a hard time with that last chapter, if you all couldn't tell by the length. It was just sad. See, what had happened was I replaced Lydia with Serana, and then I just couldn't do what I wanted. Like, I missed accidently zapping Lydia with chain lightening and her being all "you won't get the best of me." And then today, she tried to kill me cuz my J'zargo flame cloak was all dysfunctional. I thought I was out of range but then she followed me, and yeah okay enjoy this. I fixed my soul. **_

_**Disclaimer: Skyrim belongs to Bethesda and I kinda want to claim Sirsha as my own.**_

Back in Ivarstead, Sirsha bought them some food at the inn. The two sat in silence, staring at the fire that dominated the homely place. Lydia didn't dare break the silence for fear of upsetting the elf. She could feel the stares of the inhabitants on them, probably wondering why such a powerful-looking mage was visiting their town. Or probably hating the elf for being an elf. Most likely the latter, if the rest of her kinsman were anything to judge by, Lydia thought.

A slight twitch of the hand was the only indicator that it was time to leave the inn and continue on their not-so-merry way. Lydia followed her distraught Thane all the way to the bridge they had crossed the other day where Sirsha pulled off to the side by a grove of trees rather abruptly.

"Lydia," Sirsha clipped. Her golden eyes bored right into Lydia's sea-green ones. There was a darkness there that Lydia didn't like. Perhaps the elf was bored of her and really was going to kill her here and now right outside this tiny town she could no doubt burn to the ground. Nevertheless, Lydia knew it was her duty to protect her country above following her Thane's orders. Until Sirsha made a move to attack, Lydia could not break her oath.

"Yes, my Thane?"

"It is time we part ways."

Here it was. She was about to ram an ice spike through her throat no doubt. Would Lydia be fast enough to counter it though?

So she was mildly surprised when Sirsha simply strode past the tense housecarl and began along the road. Lydia turned, waiting for something to happen. A bolt of lightning, the cold freeze of paralysis, _something_. But no, the mer was striding along the road on her long legs.

"My Thane!" Lydia cried, racing to catch up both physically and emotionally. She had been psyching herself to die or to kill, but now neither had happened, and she was feeling confused. "My Thane, please wait!"

Sirsha acted like she hadn't even noticed the Nord and kept pressing forward. Lydia's calls didn't deter her at all. Impatient and frustrated, Lydia grabbed her arm and spun the Altmer around.

"I am sworn to protect you no matter what," Lydia said with some force. She tried to ignore the chill of fear that ran down her spine when the Altmer glared down at her. "There are dragons all over Skyrim, and as an important person, someone would want you dead. You are not safe in these lands."

"I know that, Lydia," came Sirsha's icy response.

"Then please allow me to escort you across these dangerous lands, my Thane."

"I believe it is better that you remain in Whiterun for the time being."

"There are bandits all along these roads, my Thane. I am honorbound to protect you and all you own above following your orders." This technically wasn't true, but Lydia hoped that Sirsha wouldn't see that and would take her for her word.

"Do you truly desire to traverse across all of Skyrim to visit the Shrine of Azura? Where resides the spirit of a Daedra?"

Lydia faltered. She hated Daedra. They were cruel creatures that enjoyed some measure of sadism. But Lydia had already said her piece. It was imperative that she stick by it.

"I am so sworn," she said. And she was pleased that it sounded even and serious.

"Fine," Sirsha snapped. "But the moment we arrive, you leave to Whiterun or wherever it is you resided before...before _this_."

Well, this was going to be one long, horrible journey, Lydia quickly conceded. It was as though the animosity that Lydia had first felt towards the elf had been reversed and increased tenfold on her. And it wasn't for any reason that Lydia could tell. Only that Sirsha really didn't want to be the Dragonborn.

Being in the southern half of Skyrim, the weather was warmer and more evenly tempered than up in the northernmost regions. More wildlife was out grazing in the colorful forests, and it the docile nature of everything was the opposite of Sirsha's mood. Lydia didn't dare break the silence as they trudged north on the baron road. Lydia idly wondered why so few people traveled. Yes, this was a time of war, but this close to the center of Skyrim, she expected to see at least a few more people out and about.

She was pulled out of her reveries when she was ripped off the side of the road and flung against a tree. Her steel pressed against the tree, and ached a bit from the suddenness of it all, but what she found truly disconcerting, at least at that moment, was the body flush against hers. Lydia had to hold her breath and figure out what was going on, but it was easy enough when she heard the crackly of lightening and the explosions of fire and ice up ahead.

"Battle mages," Sirsha whispered, eyes peeled around the tree. "And necromancers, from the looks of it. Warzone around Fort Amol, looks like."

"How many?" Lydia choked out. Her throat was dry, but it wasn't from battle anxiety. In desperation, she focused on the upcoming conflict, willing her instincts to calm her nerves.

"Mmm. About fifteen mages, I'd say. Probably hostile towards us. About 30 stormcloaks, by the sounds of it. They're dropping quickly. They aren't any match for the mages."

"What is your wish, my Thane?"

"I'd prefer not to fight them in the daylight, even twilight. Too risky," she added hastily. Her golden eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and she took a step backwards, releasing Lydia. "Just in case, though." She pulled out her Dragon Priest mask and pulled it over her face, hiding her identity entirely. When she spoke again, her voice was dark and distorted. "If they engage on you, I cannot offer protection."

Lydia nodded and suppressed a shudder. This was it. If she somehow made it out of this mess, she could head back to Whiterun and receive some well earned rest and mead. If not, then Shor rest her bones. Sovnegarde awaited.

The mage in front of her readied herself with green light in her hands. She quickly released the glow in her hands where it entered Lydia. It flooded her being and made her feel empowered, strong, and ready to take on the world.

"Here, take this." A gray bottle lay in Sirsha's gloved palm. Lydia hesitantly reached out for it, unsure if it was poison or not. When Sirsha pulled another one from her own pocket and lifted her mask a tad, Lydia felt hers was safe. At least, she waited until the elf made the first move. "Cheers."

Sirsha downed her small vial and immediately disappeared. Lydia had to stare hard at the trees and bushes to see a small distortion that was her Thane racing across the warzone. Not wanting to think hard on the matter, Lydia downed her philter.

She could feel her weight, but she was invisible. She was as audible as ever, but to the battle just up ahead, she was nothing but a breeze. At first, she bumbled along, tripping over her feet, but she quickly grasped the basics of being invisible. If she didn't she would most assuredly die. Her eyes scanned the battlefield for any blurred trees, but it was too hard to tell with the all the wards and lightening flashing around her.

The chaos of a battle was nothing new to Lydia. After all, she was one of the finest in the guard. Irelith herself had trained Lydia in her more advanced years of education. But no one had ever placed her in a situation where she had to chase an invisible and angry Thane who couldn't care less if her housecarl died in an elemental warzone. Lydia managed to keep her wits about her and stay on the road, running as fast as she could without attracting too much attention. She thought she heard someone yelling after her, but she raced until she was gasping for air. Her lungs were screaming and her legs were cramping. With a start, she realized she could see her hands and feet. She slowed and pushed herself around a tree to glance behind her and catch her breath.

Nothing was following her, she saw to her relief. The commotion was a ways away, and not nearly finished. Elements were still flying, war cries filled the air. They were tinny and hard to hear from where she hid, breathing heavily.

"Shit," she panted as she fell down to her haunches. "Holy shit, that was insane."

For comfort, she gripped the dagger she always kept at her side. The leather handle felt comforting against her tense hands. As her adrenaline shut off, her hands began to tremble, but she swallowed the sensation and pushed herself up and made sure that her battleaxe had managed to stay on her back. To her relief, it had. She surveyed the landscape, attempting to formulate some sort of plan now that she was separated from her Thane who had made it quite clear that she neither wanted or, situationaly, needed Lydia.

Obviously, Sirsha was able to fight against armies and sneak past others. She could cook for herself, and she could afford an inn. But what if she couldn't make it to an inn? She was bound to freeze to death. The Shrine of Azura was for another day and a half of full travel by foot, and it was nearing twilight. Sirsha was cold when in a warm inn and wrapped in furs. She'd be an icicle in this weather if she were out in the elements.

If she wound up dead on the side of the road, all guilt would fall on Lydia's shoulders and there would be no way for her to redeem herself or get another job. She would be forever seen as a lazy soldier who had abandoned her charge regardless of what the facts actually were. Lydia took another steadying breath and pressed northward.

She didn't know exactly where the Shrine of Azura was, but surely the locals up north would know. Hopefully they would know.

By the time the stars were shining in full, Lydia was exhausted. The adrenaline surge earlier had completely drained her, and because she was further north than she had been earlier this week, the weather was slightly chill. Lydia slid down by the stone bulwarks on the side of the road. Exhaustion cramped her muscles, and cold wracked her body. Hopefully Sirsha was out of this frigid weather.

Lydia didn't have much with her in the way of camping supplies. Sirsha had most of the money, but Lydia wasn't without. Just not as wealthy. Not that it mattered much out in the middle of the wilderness. Out here, without a sleeping roll or much food, she was doomed. She swallowed and decided to keep traveling. Sleeping closer to dawn might be a bit safer as well as warmer. Lydia concentrated, then, for the next couple hours on putting one foot in front of the other. She tried to keep an ear out for predators, but the gentle wind in the trees prevented much from reaching her numb ears.

She finally reached Windhelm, though it was after midnight. She staggered up to the main gates where stood two slightly chilled stormcloak guards.

"Halt," one of them spoke, pushing themselves against the huge gates. "Who goes there at such an hour?"

"Lydia Housecarl," she spoke as loudly as she could. "I serve the Thane of Whiterun."

"Whiterun has a Thane?" the other guard asked, hand on sword hilt.

"Where is your Thane, _housecarl_?" the other one asked skeptically.

"There was a battle over by Fort Amol earlier this evening. We made a break for it, and we lost each other. I had hoped she would have stopped here…"

"Fort Amol? Now that's a long ways away from here."

"Yes, but have you seen…." Lydia realized that as Stormcloaks, these men would not be very helpful in helping her find an Altmer. It was probably the last thing they would want to do.

"We had a couple travelers this evening, but no Nords," the guard continued, assuming the Thane of Whiterun was a native to this land. "Especially not any fancy Nords in fine garbs, like your Thane no doubt."

"Can I at least stay at the end for the rest of the night?" Lydia asked. Her patience and her nerves were wrecked, and some sleep would be very beneficial.

"Of course, Housecarl."

With that, the guards let her past, not once assuming her to be a spy or in service to the Thalmor, for which she was grateful. Lydia had only to been to Windhelm once, and that was nigh a decade ago when she was traveling with her father visit one of his friends. Just as she remembered, everything was covered in snow and stone. It was beautiful, and Lydia would have appreciated it more perhaps if she weren't so tired.

She pushed the doors open to the inn, and staggered over to the counter. She had to look like a drunk. A very tired maiden sat behind the bar and shook herself to reality when she saw Lydia's frozen form lean against the bar.

"Can I have a room, please?" Lydia asked holding out some gold. The warmth of the room was beginning to thaw her nose and ears. She couldn't wait to snuggle up in a warm bed.

"Oh, yes, right. Of course, follow me," the woman said as she got up and took the gold. Lydia followed the woman up the stairs to her room. She was pointed to the one at the end of the hall on the right, and once inside, Lydia collapsed in the chair. She mechanically took off her armor and threw on her typical tunic before going back out into the main chamber to warm up by the fire.

It seeped through to her bones, the warmth did. Her eyelids drooped, but she fought sleep. Her thoughts kept running from her as she tried to think of a course of action. She had to find her Thane, but what if Sirsha was in Whiterun? What if Whiterun was experiencing large amounts of rain, and all the carriages sunk in the mud? And what if the mud was filled with rabid mudcrabs?

Lydia knew she had to head off to bed, and was too tired to notice the stranger sitting in the corner, watching her.

She awoke when fire raced through her body. A strangled scream broke through her mouth before a hand stifled her. It was a small, but strong hand that clamped over her mouth and tried to reach up to her nose, but she kicked as best as she could. Her muscles were sore and protested movement. Her brain was foggy and couldn't begin to conceptualize an ending to this madness.

"Will you be quiet?" a familiar voice hissed in her ear.

Lydia immediately relaxed in the grip of her Thane who had grabbed the once flailing housecarl from behind and was struggling to move around the sluggish woman. Lydia helped by leaning against the wall instead of the Altmer and took in the sight.

Sirsha was gaunt and pale. Her noir locks were pulled back into a messy ponytail, and she wore simple miner's clothes. Loose strands of hair fell in front of her burning amber eyes which were alight with something akin to hunger. She could pass for a half-Nord, such was her paleness, but her sharp features definitely hinted to the obvious Mer genetics. Lydia wanted to ask what had happened, but her mouth felt like a wad of cotton had been shoved in it.

"I knew you would stop by here," Sirsha whispered, hands falling into her lap. She sat at the head of the bed where Lydia's head had been. Lydia herself nodded and subconsciously started pulling blankets up to her chest to ward off the cold and catch up on some sleep. "Are you…are you okay?"

"Mm, tir'd," Lydia moaned. Part of her wanted to wake up and get some answers, but the greater part of her told the small part to shut up and get some sleep. Sirsha was alive, and the rest would come later.

"I see. I apologize for waking you, but I had to know." Lydia nodded and felt cool hands pull her away from the wall and lay her down on the bed. Cool lips grazed her forehead, but Lydia was sure she was dreaming by then.

It was midmorning when Lydia awoke again, this time far more rested. Her muscles groaned lazily as she stretched in bed, and she flexed them just to confirm that they were still working. She slowly sat up, trying to remember waking up in the middle of her night, but couldn't really recall much. Just that Sirsha was there. And that in and of itself felt like a dream. Lydia tried to work through the fog of those memories, but couldn't make it feel more material. Instead, she decided to get some breakfast and work through her memories later.

She threw herself out of bed and felt the fire from the hearth in the main chamber heating the floorboards of the entire top floor. Her toes were warm, and she felt relieved that she, at least, was out of the cold from the night before. Lydia staggered out into the main chamber, where the source of the immense heat sat.

She had to avoid hitting her head on the slanted ceilings as she shuffled forward. Despite her years serving in the military, she had never been a morning person, and didn't feel the need to jump start her morning by trying to rush like she had at Breezehome. If her dream last night was real, then Sirsha was at least out of immediate danger. The hazards of being an elf in Windhelm were present, but Sirsha was obviously a very capable mage, Lydia reasoned as she nibbled on some pheasant roast.

The Shrine of Azura… Where was that? Obviously, up north, Lydia thought. Sirsha didn't really have much marked on her map of things in the south or west. She looked like she only had the north east fleshed out. Lydia decided, after warming herself by the fire, that she would go out in search of the missing elf and perhaps finally get things hammered out between them. Maybe as easy as she had in her dream.

Back in her room, Lydia finished putting on her armor and was combing through her messy hair. It was getting long and would need a haircut soon. She would have Ysolda do that back in Whiterun, she supposed. She was finishing her side braid when her fingers brushed against something crumbling on her skin. Not thinking much of it, she brushed off the whatever it was and pulled a couple pieces of what she had assumed to be bread crumbs (even though she hadn't eaten any bread that morning). She was puzzled by the rusty blood. She shook her head and moved that thought to the backburner. More than likely she had run into a tree sometime in the night. It wouldn't be the first time…

She went downstairs to sign out of her room and continue to Winterhold. It was about a day's walk from here, and while, yes, she _could_ take the carriage, she wanted to search as thoroughly as possible for her Thane, and that would prove difficult from a noisy carriage.

On the ground floor, Lydia did a quick once over for her Thane, searching for a hooded figure of grand stature and golden skin. Instead, most people here were sleepy Nords and stern Dunmer. Lydia found Elda easily enough, and thanked her for the room.

"By the way, have you seen a mage come through here?" Lydia chanced. It was risky to ask, but not as risky as asking midnight guards known for their racism.

"A mage? Mmm, I don't think so. Mostly travelers that would fit your bill," Elda responded, wiping down some dishes. "I think the closest thing to a mage we've had through here was that really handsome young man earlier this week. I mean, his beauty was magical, I tell you."

"Oh, okay, thanks then," Lydia said and quickly disengaged herself from what was sure to be a painful conversation. Elda's voice was grating, and well, Lydia had better things to do. Maybe the local bauble shop had seen her.

Lydia wandered around town until she found the Grey Quarter. She asked the shady elf whether or not _he_ had seen a mage that matched Sirsha's description. He wasn't too helpful, and Lydia decided that she might as well see if he had seen someone that matched the Sirsha from her dream.

"You know, I _do_ think I may have seen someone like that," he said in his oily voice. "I might be persuaded to remember."

"Fine, you get to keep your fingers intact," Lydia growled, pulling his face up to hers. She snarled as best as she could to be as intimidating as possible. She didn't have the money to pay for anything he wanted.

The elf's smirk dropped as he realized that he could possibly lose the usefulness of more than his fingers.

"Okay, okay, I'll talk," he panicked. When Lydia backed away a couple inches, he averted his eyes, trying not to stare into that terrifying green. "This woman, she looked like an Altmer, and talked like one as well. Didn't appear to have any magical affinity, and quite honestly, I don't know why she was here. She looked like she could do with a meal and some sleep, to be honest. Just like the one you're looking for, I swear. She dropped off a couple sets of fur armor and some jewels, but then left. It was just this morning, I swear. That's all I know, now will you put me down."

Lydia bored into his eyes with her own before setting him down on the ground again. The moment she did, he scrambled to the back wall and wouldn't say another word. Satisfied, Lydia departed the store and then the town. She was fairly confident that if she hurried, she would find Sirsha somewhere along the road or meet with her at this "Shrine of Azura."

Sirsha crept around the rocks, using her detect life spell to locate the exact position of the bandit at the mouth of the cave. There wasn't anyone else around. Just a couple birds and rabbits. She readied her Vampire Seduction within her. If she managed to seduce this one, she would be fine for another week. It didn't make sense though, why her vampiric hunger had been out of control lately. She had been unable to bear the sunlight when usually she could shrug off the crawling sensation that scuttled across her skin.

She kept track of her feedings, and she hadn't missed one. Not one. But here she was, feeding twice in one week. Sirsha crept forward, readying her power. The bandit didn't notice her, so Sirsha unleashed her whisper of power, entrapping the dangerous human in a glassy-eyed dream. Small satisfaction settled in her stomach, and Sirsha extended her fangs into the neck of her victim. His hot blood pooled into her eager mouth. It energized her, calmed her hunger. She felt life flood back into her body. Her eyes, she knew, went from the hungered frenzy to the cool gold she had attained over the years.

She needed to find Aranea. It had been a while, for starters, but Sirsha was scared. Her vampirism was acting off, and it was upsetting the balance of her life. She had gotten away with her…tendencies at the College. Mirabelle had seen to that. Apparently she hadn't been the only vampire to have wandered those halls. Though Mirabelle had found a way to rid herself of the curse, Sirsha never felt the need to. Mirabelle had simply offered her blood when needed, and Sirsha had controlled her thirst remarkably well. Just, well, now, she was having difficulty. It was worse than when she had first turned.

Absently, she pushed the bandit away from her. He sprawled out on the frozen ground and smiled up at the sky, completely dazed. She needed to speak to Aranea. There was so much that they needed to discuss. Perhaps, she could have both her and Lydia travel together, but Sirsha quickly realized that would be a bad idea. Lydia hated elves.

Sirsha sighed and wiped the blood off her mouth. Azura's shrine was only a few more hours away. If it was night, she would be able to run all the way. But in the day time, she would have to pace herself. She couldn't draw attention to herself, either. Sirsha donned her mage robes since she was looking like herself again. It wouldn't do to have people associate the Archmage of Winterhold with a vampire's face. It'd do bad things for the College, it would. And Balgruff once word got out. Yes, it was better to travel incognito once the hunger got too much.

Which is why she needed to find Aranea. Aranea would know. Aranea had helped her. Aranea had traveled with Sirsha for as long as she could remember. Aranea….

Sirsha focused on getting back on the road and figuring out which way led north where she would find the Shrine of Azura, and hopefully, Aranea.

**Yes, obviously, I love Aranea. She's like, a burst mage, and Serana is a tank mage, you know? I mean, Serana is great and all, but I like burst mages more. And I had a Skyrim crush on Aranea and want the Beans mod so badly, but I keep forgetting to add it, and yeah. Okay, so thanks to all my viewers and followers. Visitors, I know you read this. I know you do. I want to thank you all for making my first authoring experience memorable. And yes, I'm as surprised as you to find out "authoring" is a word. Did you know that? :O**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so I realized that I have over 10k words and no lemons! What kind of M-rating femslash writer am I if I can't provide you guys with that which you seek? Well, you aren't getting any today from this story. Sorry, these two are just taking their sweet time. **** I'll do what I can, but this story just does what it wants. Like, seriously, I have no idea what I'm doing. Guidance would be helpful. I mean, read the first couple hundred words, and you'll see. I seriously have no idea what I'm doing.**

**Disclaimer: Bethesda owns Skyrim, and I own Sirsha.**

Lydia pulled off the side of the road to dig around her bag for some food now that she had some. Sirsha had had most of the food when they had broke off yesterday which had made Lydia's journey to Windhelm that much more difficult. It was a miracle that she had even made it to the city. If even one wolf had tried to attack her, she would be dog food in seconds.

Of course, now she was feeling much able. She took a bit of pride in herself for accomplishing the feat of living through everything that transpired yesterday. When she was done with her salmon, she continued traveling north to the town of Winterhold. Hopefully someone there could tell her the general location of Azura's shrine. And from there she could find her Thane. And assuming her Thane still wanted her around, she would travel with her as well.

There was also a possibility that Sirsha had decided to simply go back to the College. Lydia didn't really care for magic. She respected her Thane's use of it, but Lydia herself was adverse to any other magics. It was simply unnatural. Well, regardless, Lydia would check Winterhold first for, if nothing else, information.

It was much cooler up here in the Northern provinces than it had been even in Windhelm. Windhelm had been covered in snow. Winterhold was a blizzard. In her current condition, Lydia doubted that Sirsha would be very well in this weather. Frowning, she picked up her pace to a brisk walk. It had been snowing all morning, albeit lightly, and as such it had covered up any tracks that could had been out for more than several hours.

But Lydia was confident that she would be able to catch up. Most mages, like Sirsha, weren't the most physically in shape like a warrior. And although Sirsha had a toned body from her all her travels, Lydia was much more capable of braving the elements and trekking all across the frozen countryside, even with heavy armor on.

About an hour in to her almost jogging pace, she heard someone groan. It came from somewhere to her right, she figured. She drew her battleaxe and crept forward to ascertain just who or what had made the sound. When the person groaned again and coupled it with a few explicit grumbles, Lydia tightened her grip.

She peered around a bush of snowberries and boulders at a bandit who was dusting himself off. She watched as he picked his axe up from the snow and tucked it back in his belt. When he turned around, Lydia noticed the stream of dried blood on the side of his neck and down his chest. She repressed a shudder, and slowly stood up, clearing her throat.

The axe he had recently sheathed flew up into his hand, and he growled. Apparently, he wasn't recovered enough, because he swayed and cursed like a sailor.

"I'm not here to hurt you," Lydia began, dropping her hold of her battleaxe to her side. It probably wasn't very smart, but she needed to know what had done this to the bandit. If it was still out there, she wanted to know. "Just, you look hurt. That wound…"

"Yeah? Well, maybe if you wander around for a while, you'll find the creature that did this," he spat. He didn't release his aggressive stance, but instead Lydia saw his knuckles go white.

"What does it look like? Was it a type o wraith? A wolf of some kind?"

"I don't know! And it's none of your business. Get lost 'fore I call the boss to rip you to pieces."

"Please, I'm searching for someone –,"

"Well he's probably dead now with that thing out there. I barely managed to take it on myself."

Lydia scowled. No way that this lowly bandit could take on some foul creature or being and live to tell the tale. If the creature had wanted him dead – and there was no blood splatter to suggest a fight – then no doubt that he would be dead. Whatever it was – whoever it was – knew how to sneak, she surmised. This…creature…knew the senses. But, thinking about it wasn't going to get any solid answers.

"Okay," Lydia growled. She whipped up her battleaxe again and pushed her face into a snarl. "Time for some answers."

The bandit stumbled back a few feet. He was all talk, she saw. He readied his weapon, but was poised to run. Lydia wouldn't be able to catch him if he ran as he was wearing far lighter armor than she. She could try taunting him, but there was always the possibility that he would run off. No, she had to play this smart. Her scowl persisted as she circled around, pressuring him to the mouth of the cave. She saw he was hesitant to wander inside, and wondered idly how bad his leader could be to instill such a great fear that he would have to choose between her and going inside. Then she decided it didn't matter. She had a fucking job to do.

She strode forward, letting herself appear open and undefended so as to give him false comfort. He seemed confused, and that was his downfall. She lunged for him and slammed him against the mouth of the cave. With mild strength, she rammed her forehead into his nose and heard the satisfactory crunch of bone give way.

"Now tell me about this goddam creature!" Lydia seethed. A part of her felt a tad guilty for intimidating multiple people in one day, but she shoved that to the backburner.

She forgot about his axe. It cut into her arm, and she lost her grip but for a moment. In that moment, the bandit dropped to one knee, and she managed to kick him onto his back. She really didn't want to kill him, and she had figured that he didn't have the guts to actually use his axe. But, she was wrong, obviously.

With her good arm, she reached down and straddled him while gripping his neck. She could see the fear in his silver eyes as he realized that he had fucked up more in those five minutes than he had perhaps in his whole life.

"Tell. Me. About. The. Beast." Each word was tipped in poison, and Lydia was somewhat nervous about this reaction in her. It was important that she find her Thane, but at what cost to her or Skyrim?

"I – I – I don't k-k-know m-much," he stuttered, blood pouring down his lips and mixing with the dried river on his neck. "It w-was a hu-hum-man or s-some-something. W-wasn't a b-beast like a w-wolf." He paused to catch his breath and breathe through his mouth lest he drown. Lydia gave him a few seconds before her steely eyes narrowed, and he squeaked. "I was s-standing guard and d-didn't ev-even hear it. It j-just ap-appeared and n-next th-thi-thing I knew, I was r-really h-ha-happy. The-then I w-woke up. A-and you were here."

_It's close then_, Lydia mused as she got off the man. She picked up her battleaxe from the snow and tried to blot the bandit from her head as she considered his story. Humanoid, he said. And not a beast like a wolf. So, not a werewolf, that much could be said. Or a wolf, or a bear, or a sabre cat, or an ice wraith. Maybe a Wisp Mother? It was certainly was cold enough and north enough for at least one to be out. Though, they were not known to illicit a response akin to "happiness" or leaving their victims alive.

Lydia pulled over off the side of the road several hundred meters away and looked at her wound. It was still bleeding, but at least it didn't look dirty or ragged. The cut was clean and shallow, but it hurt like hell. She bent down and grabbed some snow to clean and numb the wound. She hissed at the contact, but soon after pulled a spare shirt from her pack and ripped off a sleeve to tie around the wound. It would slow her down, but it wouldn't impede her too terribly much. She'd still be able to fight. She had her dagger, and if she really had to, she was able to swing her axe.

She tested this out, and although the bleeding increased a tad, she found that she was in fact able to utilize most of her arm and its strength. Grunting, she got back on the road and continued onward.

It wasn't until slightly past noon that Lydia came across fresh footprints in the snow. They were made by someone light on their feet both in style and clothing. Lydia suppressed a smile. It could be her Thane or it could be the monster. Both were, she now considered, probably in the same time frame away from the bandit from earlier. After that, she kept an even sharper eye out for anything in the woods that might even breathe. But everything, she noticed, was silent. No foxes skirted the woods, no rabbits dashed across her path. No birds, nothing. Everything was silent.

When she came across a bush of snowberries, she inspected it, remembering that Sirsha had a tendency to harvest any and all plants. She was pleased to see that most of the berries in this bush had indeed been harvested and the footprints around it matched the ones she had been following. With renewed vigor, Lydia broke into a jog and kept along the road.

She saw a figure on that lonely road only a few minutes later. He – or she – was tall, that much was obvious. Lydia quickened her pace. The cold winter air filled her lungs, and she allowed herself a brief moment of happiness at finally having brought this affair to a close. This entire ordeal had been a complete fiasco that could have easily been avoided if _someone_ weren't a self-righteous bitch. Granted, traveling with elves or being in their presence wasn't her ideal situation, but duty called her to do ignore her personal preferences in this particular instance.

"Thane!" Lydia called, hands cupped around her mouth as she slowed. Her arm protested, but she ignored the throb, opting to catch her breath with a well-deserved walk.

The figure turned around, and as Lydia neared, she could see the golden skin and the Archmage's robes. Internally she sighed. If that hadn't been Sirsha, then that would have been an awkward conversation. Well, it was bound to be an awkward conversation simply due to everything that had transpired over the past 24 hours, but Lydia was prepared for that. That was a social faux pas. Not that she was particularly known for her social graces, but still.

"Ah, Lydia," Sirsha – for it was indeed her – murmured. "I see you did not return to Whiterun."

"No, no I didn't." She kind of expected more of a response, but then again, it was Sirsha. "There is some creature about in these parts. But generally speaking, these lands are no place for a woman to wander alone."

"So you think me weak because I am a woman?"

Oops.

"Not at all. I think it would be beneficiary for you to travel alongside someone who you can…trust. Not everyone in Skyrim is kind towards your race. Especially in this region." Was that good damage control? Ugh.

"You're one to talk, aren't you?"

"Just because I don't particularly care for you elves doesn't mean that I let that get in the way of my duty."

Sirsha, Lydia noticed, was shaking all over. From rage or cold, she wasn't sure, but it unnerved her a bit. Sirsha was normally collected and calm, and to simply imagine the possibility of her raging was somewhat…wrong.

"Well, I do not wish to cause you discomfort, _housecarl_," she spat. "If my presence is too much to bear, you are within your right to return to Whiterun. I can assure you that I shall avoid that city at all costs."

She turned away to continue north, but Lydia reached for her arm. She was immediately met with a crackle of lightening dancing across her skin which laid her flat on her back. She lay there staring up at the grey sky until a golden face peered down at her. Her eyes weren't golden, but rather a fiery red now, and Lydia felt a chill crawl down her spine, and it had little to do with the snow-packed ground.

"You just don't know when you're not wanted, do you?"

Lydia couldn't say anything. The wind had been knocked out of her, and she tried to catch her breath while getting rid of the tingles still running across her skin.

"Go home, Lydia. I don't want you. I don't need you." She laughed. It sounded broken and forced to Lydia who was still trying to push herself up on her elbows. "I'm the goddam Archmage of Winterhold, essentially the most powerful mage in all of fucking Skyrim! And you – you're just one soldier. What use could you possibly hope to serve?"

"I am yours and yours alone to command," Lydia responded, knowing that even as she said it that it was utterly pathetic. When she tried to get up further, a boot planted itself on her armored chest and forced her down.

"No," Sirsha hissed. "You may have been assigned to me, but that does not make you mine." Her foot pressed down further, and Lydia was grateful that her armor didn't give. She also confirmed that it was indeed rage that was sending shaking her Thane. "You better get comfortable down there because that's where you belong, _human_."

Lydia had never seen her this angry before. It just wasn't something she had thought about. Sirsha simply seemed to always be cool and aloof. This explosion was slightly unprecedented. Of course, Lydia mused, if _she_ were being followed by someone she didn't like, she'd probably get pissy too.

"Now, I'll say this one more time," Sirsha seethed. She removed her foot and replaced it with knee to better reach Lydia's face. "I'm going to s- wait…are you…you bleeding?"

Lydia, like several times before, was unsure how to respond to this sudden change in conversational direction.

"Uh…"

"Shit."

So, she knew about the creature? Maybe? What was going on? Sirsha flew off of Lydia before she had a chance to see the normally amber eyes burn orange with the desire to feed.

"The monster," Lydia said, hoping to perhaps get a chance to patch herself up and hightale it to Winterhold.

"What monster?"

"I don't know." Lydia was hesitant to say anything to the volatile woman above her, and didn't try to get up in case she grew angry again. "Some bandit off the road told me about it."

"Bandit?" Sirsha was now about two meters away and had her arms crossed over her chest defensively. "Where?"

"Not anywhere near here. But…this monster…whatever attacked him didn't kill him. Just…cut him up a bit and scared him half to death. I scared him some more and got some answers."

Lydia checked her arm to fix the bandage there. It looked spent, she decided and reached into her bag for another strip to tie around it. Peeling off the bandage would be unpleasant as some blood was plastered to it and her skin, but she had to change the bandage. Just as she was about to change it, Sirsha was suddenly in front of her. Lydia glanced up at the imposing figure and felt fear pool in her stomach. It wasn't the anxiety she felt before battle. It wasn't the dread she felt back when she was a child and she messed something up. It wasn't the panic she felt when she left her friend's cat escape one summer. No, this was pure fear on the most primal level. It was looking a predator in the eyes and knowing that escape was improbable and death was imminent.

Sirsha was sizing her up with burning red fire in her normally golden eyes. Lydia felt her knees beginning to shake. This was…this was unprecedented. Sirsha was – Sirsha, Thane of Whiterun, Dragonborn, and Archmage of Winterhold – a vampire?

"Get away from me," Lydia breathed. Her voice lacked its usual bravado, and her face flushed with embarrassment.

Sirsha didn't respond but rather grasped Lydia's arm where her wound was, causing Lydia to cry out in pain and fear. She had guessed so many times that she would die in battle against a warrior of great strength, or that she would die with cause. Not that some bloodthirsty vampire would take her on the middle of an unused road in the middle of the frozen tundra.

"Uhn." Lydia winced when sharp nails dug into her skin. They raked down the bare part of her arms and then stopped at the gauntlets. Sirsha didn't break eye contact, and Lydia couldn't look away from those deep pools of virulent crimson. She tried to escape the firm hold of her arms, but her legs wouldn't obey. Her running was a stagger and then she crumpled to the ground, pinned under the mage. Lydia couldn't understand her body's reaction to this. It was unnatural and against her training. Wasn't she supposed to be able to repel any attacker?

Unless it was her Thane.

Unless it was the woman who was currently pinning her down in the snow. That was where her training had told her to stop. She was never allowed to bring bodily harm to her Thane. And any resistance she put up would only hurt them both. But that was before she knew what Sirsha was.

"Stop!" Lydia pushed Sirsha off of her and rolled onto her stomach to climb onto her feet. She was just pushing herself up onto feet when she felt Sirsha grab her battleaxe and pulled her back. By Talos, she was going to kill her! "Let me go!"

She wrested away from the elf. In doing so, she left her battleaxe behind. Lydia quickly realized that if she wanted to get away, she would have to incapacitate Sirsha. And that, even though Sirsha was a powerful mage, Lydia only had to pin her down and knock her unconscious. On this lonely road, no one would see. No one could stop her.

With as much speed as she could muster, Lydia turned on the vampire and leapt on top of her. Sirsha was too surprised to do much else besides be pinned under the stronger woman. Lydia contemplated a headbutt, but she was loathe to near the vampire's mouth. She could suffocate her to unconsciousness, but that would leave bruises and hard feelings.

Lydia stifled a chuckle. Hard feelings. Sirsha was trying to eat her for Talos' sake! There were obviously some unresolved issues that transcended "hard feelings."

But Lydia couldn't linger on those thoughts anymore. Sirsha's cool lips had planted themselves on her own and her golden fingers wound into her dark hair to pull her closer. Lydia was startled and tried to pull back. The moment she broke the kiss, the vampire beneath her glanced away. She was pinned and unable to squirm away despite her larger size. The hands in Lydia's hair had dropped into the cool snow with a muffled thump, but Lydia's pulse was pounding in her ears.

Her hands shook, and she pulled back so that she sat on Sirsha's waist. The mage had to be freezing what with being buried in snow, but Lydia was too shaken. She had a job to do, and it was as though Sirsha was doing everything she could to drive her away for good. There was rumor of a Dawnguard, Lydia knew, that handled vampires. Maybe she could take Sirsha there and they could cure her. Surely… surely there was _some_ hope. Sirsha wasn't in her right mind. How long had she been a vampire? How long had she known she'd been infected?

"Oh my God," Lydia said, still trying to keep the upper hand emotionally and mentally. Sirsha, for her part, hadn't moved except for the general rise and fall of her chest and the shivers that wracked her body. "Oh, God, this is so fucked up."

Sirsha let Lydia rest in silence for a couple seconds before breaking it.

"How do you mean?"

"You, this, us, what just happened – everything," Lydia rambled. She didn't dare get off the vampire for fear of being eaten, but she was almost equally uncomfortable being in such a compromising position. "Just, you being a vampire, I guess, was too much. I-I can't do this."

There was a horrible, cracked, broken cry and Lydia realized that it was supposed to be a laugh.

"Now you say that," Sirsha said. She had finally turned her eyes to glance up at the Nord on top of her, but her head was still pointed away. "When I entered Dragonsreach that last time with Aranea, I felt something in the air. It was a tantalizing smell of someone's blood, and I did not desire to tarry there. I…I didn't know who it was until you introduced yourself, and then I felt a pull. I had to have you at any cost.

"But that wouldn't do," Sirsha said. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of ice and snow and Lydia's blood. "No, I had to try something else. A dead housecarl doesn't look very good to the public."

Lydia shivered with that last statement. It was just like something Sirsha would say. Clinical and cold.

"That's why…why you tried to get rid of me?" Lydia whispered. It made sense, if she was telling the truth. If not, well, Lydia was certainly going to die out in the middle of this god forsaken wilderness, then, wasn't she?

"Yes," Sirsha nodded. This time, she turned her full face to stare at Lydia. "For some reason, I need to taste your blood. It calls to me, and I must… I can't –."

She broke off in a very out of character sob and looked away. Lydia wanted to remove herself for several personal and ethical reasons, but her training was instilled even further in her than her personal feelings on such matters.

She didn't really have much of a chance to consider those things, however, as she heard a roar overhead. It was unlike anything she had ever heard before. The body underneath her froze, and Lydia feared whatever it was that had such a frightening cry.

A large shadow swept over them and the earth trembled with another great roar. Lydia glanced upward and saw a large winged beast covered in scales. Dragon. She wanted to say it aloud, but the words got caught in her throat. She rolled off her Thane and reached behind her back for her battleaxe, but when her hand swiped air, she felt the blood drain from her face. Where was that damned axe?

Sirsha struggled to her feet and immediately summoned her fiery beast and magical armor. The flaming humanoid sped forth, its hand poised to hurl a flaming death at the dragon that had begun to circle around. Lydia frantically searched for her axe. Just as she found it, she heard the horrifying stream of frost coming towards her. She braced herself for the pang that would surely follow, but she only saw white frost driven on both sides of her.

She glanced behind her and saw Sirsha covered in a frosty exterior, hand extended projecting a powerful ward. The white frost billowed around her protections like the breath of an angry dragon swept by them and circled around. A nearby fiery explosion signaled the end of the flame atronarch, and Lydia picked up her axe, ready to fight.

While the dragon was making its pass back, Sirsha threw lightening at it. It crackled in the air, and Lydia could taste the electricity in her mouth as it permeated the entirety of the battlefield. Sirsha waited for an opening to launch a second rain of lightening at the monster descending upon them. The moment it opened its maw to unleash a frozen death, Sirsha roared back in the common language, her Thu'um silencing the beast.

"FUS, RO!"

The dragon stumbled in midair, and Sirsha used that opportunity to hurl another volley of lightening at the beast. It shook its massive head and roared at her. She hunkered down, and Lydia sorely wished to help. Frost coated Sirsha until Lydia was certain she would have to find a chisel to break her out, when the dragon halted and dropped to all fours.

Its massive jaws snapped forward to finish off its prey, but Lydia was ready. She quickly pulled out her dagger and hurled it with all the accuracy she possessed. It lodged right above the dragon's collarbone. With an earsplitting screech, it made known its small pain. That was all the time Lydia needed to stand between her vulnerable charge and the massive dragon who threatened to eradicate Skyrim's last hope.

Its mouth open, and sharp teeth dove towards her, but Lydia parried the maw to the side with the blade of her axe. The force of the blow forced Lydia to her knees, but she stood as quickly as she could. A stream of sparks flew past her head, and she bit back a cry of surprise. The dragon reared back its head and unleashed a torrent of ice, but it was quickly cut off by Sirsha's Thu'um.

Lydia shook off as much ice as she could and raised her battleaxe for a blow to the dragon's great snout. There was a crunch as bone fractured under the blow, and the dragon hissed. Hot, stinking breath flew out and made her gag. The smell of death and decay was overwhelming, and she had to resist the urge to vomit. Very unprofessional.

A wall of electricity sprang up between her and the dragon, but the dragon didn't seem to care. It passed over the wall as though it were nothing, but quickly realized its mistake as webs of lightening began to race along its body. Sirsha continued her stream of sparks while casting other foreign spells on the overgrown lizard, and Lydia dodged a ray of ice directed at her.

With her most fearsome battle cry, she leapt behind the dragon's head and clambered on top. The scales were rough and cool from the harsh northern winds, and footing was hard to find. She did, however, manage to position herself just so. A few currents of electricity coursed through her, but they did little to quell the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She cried out again as she brought her axe down right between its eyes with a sickening crunch. She felt it jerk underneath her and launch her backwards.

Just as she hit the ground, she saw an explosion of light and color from the dragon, but that gave her no peace of mind as the world went black.

**Hey, guys. So, hoped you like the chapter. If there's anything you would like to see, just shoot me a message, and I'll do what I can to incorporate that into the story. Assuming it's not something totally crack. Like Miley Cyrus performing "wrecking ball" at the Bannered Mare.**

**Oh, and I'm wanting to do some Maleficent x Aurora fanfiction, so, like, I plan on uploading some shizzle regarding that soon. Cuz it's super cute! Prompts would be appreciated as well. **

**So, critiques are welcome. Requests are somewhat honored. Reviews help a lot. Like, seriously, you guys have no idea what it's like just sitting here at my laptop being all "um, so what if I make this happen? Will that be okay? Does this flow okay?" Yeah, it's super stressful. Not really, but still. Anyhoo, see you next week or whenever I do my Malora fanfic. Hue hue hue.**


	5. Chapter 5

**There are several good reasons why this chapter is late. I was out of town with some friends, and then when I got back to finish this, I was envisioning so many dirty situations, it would have become a porno, and I'm not ready for that just yet. Whatever, fuck it. I'll do whatever. I have a general plan, and that's all that matters. Oh, and the Malora fanfic is very much underway. I think y'all will like it. ANYWAYS, here's mah stuff fo' all y'all peeps.**

Her head was pounding and her body felt sore. She performed a quick diagnostic check to see which faculties were fine and which might be injured. She twitched her fingers. They responded immediately. She could feel the bruises littering her skin, and her back felt a little worse for wear, but overall she was functioning well. She worked on her breathing and tried to remember what had happened to put her…in this bed?

She could distinctly feel the fine linen sheets brushing against her mostly bare skin. The sheets were _very_ fine – something that, as a soldier and housecarl, she was not used to experiencing. She tried to pry her eyes open, and was pleased to note that she was in a dimly lit room. It was blue-ish and bounced off ancient stone walls. She peered up at the ceiling, trying to focus on one of the tall buttresses that stretched towards the abnormally tall ceilings. It was as though she were back in stone Dragonsreach.

She gripped the sheets and pulled her fingers through them. They were exceptionally fine, she thought again. She glanced over to her side and at the end table. A couple books lay stacked there along with a random apple.

Lydia swallowed. She was thirsty, it seemed. And hungry. How long had she been out? And where was she? She listened for any sound and heard a hushed conversation from around the bended hallway.

"… is too deranged to perform on my housecarl," Sirsha murmured to her companion.

"Ah, but Collette is the best in Skyrim from what I hear," replied the mysterious other. Lydia had heard that voice before, but to whom it belonged eluded her. "She wouldn't be a Master at the College otherwise."

"I know that, but I've heard tale of another in Whiterun. I might think about recruiting her here. Collette is simply…difficult, as Mirabelle once stated."

"Well, there's always Drevis. He's fairly well acquainted with alchemy. Would you like him to prepare something for your housecarl?"

There was a pause between them and some movement close to where Lydia lay. She thought about sitting up, but she wanted to find out what she could from the situation. She couldn't really keep up with the names which were making it harder to determine much.

"I _do_ have a few high quality healing potions here, Aranea," Sirsha said, voice slightly haughty. Aranea…where had Lydia heard that name before? "I don't _need_ Drevis to make anything."

"You always insist on doing everything yourself, it's a wonder you get anything done," Aranea quipped.

Lydia froze. No one had ever spoken to Sirsha in such a way. It was unnatural, and surely Sirsha would strike back.

"Oh, but I trust you to get a few things right," Sirsha laughed. She actually laughed. "I see you've managed to occupy my living quarters whilst I've been away."

"Actually, Sirsh," Aranea replied, abbreviating the Thane's name to one syllable, "I've been spending most of my time in Arcaneum with Uragg."

"I'm sure Nirya has been even more pleasant company."

Aranea laughed. The sound was rich and reverberating. Lydia thought it sounded nice, but she was still trying to figure out who she was. And where she was. She decided to sit up.

She realized her mistake the moment she tried to push herself into a sitting position. Apparently her back wasn't as well enough off as she had originally thought. Shocks of pain danced up her spin and across her shoulders. She bit back a yelp, but a hiss of pain escaped through her teeth.

"Lydia?" Sirsha rounded the corner, and Lydia was surprised to see a look of worry on her usually neutral face. When Sirsha made it to the bed, she pulled the fallen blankets back up around Lydia's shoulders. "Lydia, don't move too much. You're still recovering."

Lydia noticed that Sirsha looked generally different than whenever they had been together. Her hair was slightly disgruntled and pulled back into a braid that fell over her shoulder. She wasn't wearing her normal Archmage attire but instead wore a red dress that hugged her figure. Abruptly, Sirsha stiffened and took a couple steps back. Lydia's breathing returned to normal, and another elf rounded the corner.

She looked exactly opposite of Sirsha. She had dark Dunmer skin and a shock of short, white hair atop her head. Her eyes were the standard Dunmer red. Lydia felt cornered and alienated around the two elves, though one was her sworn Thane. Aranea, of course. From Dragonsreach. Lydia remembered now.

"Ah, your human is awake, I see," Aranea almost sneered. She didn't seem as reserved as Sirsha, and Lydia immediately disliked the dark elf.

Sirsha didn't respond but instead stared at "her human" for a few brief moments. She turned sharply on her heel and disappeared behind the bend of the wall before reappearing with a large red vial.

"Oh, come now, Sirsha," Aranea chastened. She held her hand out for the vial, but Sirsha simply raised an arched eyebrow at her. "She can't sit up at all, and she can barely move her neck. How, pray tell, is she going to guzzle that monstrosity down? Small bottles, or…use your own magicks."

The glare Aranea then received was so pointed and venomous, Lydia half expected the dark elf to melt into a puddle. No, the Dunmer shrugged and leaned against the wall opposite the bed. Her head brushed against an elaborate Aldmeri tapestry that graced much of the top half of the wall.

"Lydia, I am capable of casting a healing spell on you, but… I understand that you do not…prefer such a method, and these healing potions can only do so much," Sirsha explained. She reapproached the bedside and leaned against the end table.

"I can heal naturally, can't I?" Lydia asked. Her voice was a bit raspy, and she wondered how long she had been out. She cleared her throat, but it was fairly dry, and she couldn't do much.

"Aranea, please fetch Lydia a glass of water."

"Very well." The elf pushed herself upright and disappeared around the opposite bend of the room. She returned a few moments later with a wine glass filled with water which she promptly handed to Sirsha. "Again, I ask, how is she going to drink it?"

"I can sit up," Lydia rasped again. She tried to push herself up, but a strong golden hand kept her from rising. Lydia was greatful because she felt the pressure and light pains from barely attempting to rise.

"Your spine is bruised, you idiot," Sirsha mumbled. She let her cool fingers brush behind Lydia's ear and tuck in a stray lock of hair. "Now, let's get you some water."

Lydia was able to lift her head high enough so that she wouldn't drown while her Thane gave her some water. Lydia felt ashamed and vulnerable. Should Aranea lose control, Sirsha would have to choose between what seemed like a best friend and her lousy housecarl. Lydia furrowed her brow, relishing the cool sensation that soothed her throat. For now, it seemed, Sirsha was trying to keep her alive.

"So…where am I?" Lydia asked, head falling back onto the pillow.

"My private quarters," Sirsha answered. She placed the glass on the end table and took a step back to restore distance between them. "We are actually in Winterhold, at the College."

Lydia shifted uncomfortably under the sheets. The College had elves. Lots and lots of elves. And magick. Much more magick than Lydia could bear. Farengar was enough to stomach. But a college full of it? Dedicated to its very purpose? Unthinkable. Lydia had never foreseen herself ever setting foot in such a place.

"The College?" Lydia whispered.

"Yes, I know that you don't like Magicks. No one save for me and Aranea have permission to enter. Tolfdir might enter every once in a while but only for emergencies. He knows the rules." Sirsha cleared her throat. "But we have a much more immediate concern than the demographic composition of my school."

"Oh?"

"Your preferred method of healing." Sirsha stood straight and began to pace. Aranea snorted and left again. Lydia felt her shoulders relax a tad when the dark elf had departed, but she wasn't fully calm yet. "I understand that you want to heal as naturally as possible, but I'm afraid that due to limited space and…threat of rumors, I cannot allow you to do so.

"Your choices are the following: you can let me or one of my colleagues heal you, you can drink potions and try to heal naturally, or a combination of both."

"Rumors, my Thane?" Lydia was still trying to come to terms with her situation, and she wasn't particularly thrilled with her given options.

"I can't very well have rumors of two mistresses, can I?" she snapped, amber eyes almost burning crimson.

_Two mistresses? Then…who's the second…woman?_

"Thus I must point out to you that we have a current shortage of living spaces for you. My old Novice chambers have been inhabited since my appointment to Archmage, and the two masters who died, their living quarters have been passed on as well. Thus, the inn in Winterhold is your only option as you most certainly will not stay here with me. And, if I may point out again, you are obviously not well enough to sit up, let alone walk or take care of yourself.

"I ask that you 'pick your poison' or so the saying goes. Though, to you, these choices are poisons." Sirsha stopped talking and pacing and turned to face Lydia, expecting an immediate answer.

She didn't know what to say. She was adverse to anything unnatural, and to her, a Nord, anything magickal was unnatural. Even alchemy. Though, if she had to pick, alchemy _would_ be the lesser of two evils.

"Can I just…get a bunch of health potions?"

Sirsha paused for a moment and then nodded. She grabbed the red philter of the presumed health potion and rested her thumb under the cap.

"The larger the dose of health potion, you should know, shortens the duration of natural healing, but not in the way of magickal means," Sirsha explained slowly, her clinical edge as prevalent as ever. "You _will_ experience everything that you would have experienced naturally. In magickal healing, the healer is able to convert the pain into energy sometimes, depending on the skill level. But that is the major difference between the two. Potion is an adrenaline rush and time machine of sorts, while magickal healing is internal mending and energy conversion."

Lydia nodded but said nothing else. Sirsha understood her resolve, and positioned herself better by the side of the bed. She stretched across Lydia for the pillow on the other side of the bed to prop up the human with. With some minor discomfort, Lydia was able to get into a workable position to take the potion. It smelt like very sweet mead to her, and she tried to imagine it as such.

Sirsha held the bottle to Lydia's lips and the first few sips were absolutely vile. It may have smelt like mead, but it tasted thick and slimy. It oozed down her throat and she had to motion to remove the drink from her lips when she felt her heart racing and wounds healing. She could feel her bones' silent protests while the potion forced them back to proper health. Her skin felt like it was on fire, and she couldn't breathe for a few minutes when she lay under all the effects of her choice. The dim room brightened and she could see every detail in the stonework and tapestry. She could smell earth and plants from somewhere. The smell of that potion permeated her senses, and the bitter aftertaste wouldn't leave her mouth.

"I think you've had enough for now," Sirsha said, and Lydia thought she could almost hear a sliver of concern.

"Yes, Tolfdir reports that more dragons keep reappearing every day, almost without rhyme or reason, it seems," Sirsha sighed.

Lydia peeked her eyes open. She was sore, but not like yesterday. No, today it felt like she had participated and won in a triathlon without any training before hand. She had passed out after her healing session, and now it seemed that Sirsha was in conference with her infuriating friend.

"Well, you and I can get this magical Horn these gasbags of High Hill told you to get and be on our merry way," Aranea said. Lydia bristled at her mockery of the Nordic culture. How dare she! These were sacred beliefs and traditions!

"I just don't understand what's so important about this horn is the problem. It's just retrieving a horn. I'm obviously an able gopher," she spat. "I retrieved the Eye of Magnus from a goddam Dragon Priest, I think I can delve into an ancient Nordic ruin and dig around for a horn. Fucking geezers."

"But they don't know you, Sirsha," Aranea laughed. "They have to learn to trust their enemy."

"Ah, but that's dangerous. I believe the inhabitants of Windhelm know a thing or two about who to trust. You and I, we don't belong here."

"Sirsha, look at me right now. You more than anyone else, more than half the Nords of this land deserve to be here. You _saved_ Skyrim and potentially all of Tamriel last year. You battled your way to perfection. I don't want to hear you say that you don't belong here."

The fuck were they talking about?

Lydia was thirsty, and as much as she loved eavesdropping, she wanted to get up and get some water. Or, if she was lucky, some good mead. Though, in a giant college full of milk-drinking elves, it was highly unlikely. She carefully sat up and blinked away the black spots swarming across her vision. Feeling confident that her body was responding with minimal complaints, she threw her feet over the side of the bed and stood.

Sirsha rounded the corner and beheld her housecarl balancing herself wearing only a baggy shirt and loose trousers. It wasn't shapely or feminine at all, but Sirsha felt the draw of Lydia's scent drawing her in. It was sweet and heady, but that might have just been Sirha's perception. It was enthralling. Sirsha felt a light growl rise in her throat, and she moved forward to "help" her human.

The pink lips she was focusing on were moving, and looked so full and plump, Sirsha just had to taste them. She finished her approach, staring down into Lydia's green-grey eyes. She vaguely heard a door shut, and somehow that bolstered her resolve to proceed with her rare moment of impulse.

Her hands wrapped into warmer, rougher hands that weakly returned the grasp. Beautiful dark brows furrowed in confusion, and finally jumped when Sirsha's lips pressed themselves against her own. Lydia immediately pulled back, but that wasn't her best idea. After more or less sleeping for three days, her muscles were a bit weak and unstable. Lydia lost her balance and crumpled to the bed under the increasingly aggressive mage.

Her wrists were pinned under the mage's golden hands, and under normal circumstances, Lydia would have easily been able to throw off the elf. Sirsha's warm body hovered over hers, and the warmth Lydia had missed from the bed for only a few short moments felt doubled in the next few seconds when Sirsha kissed her prey again.

Lydia tried to throw her off, but being in a compromising position after the effects of large healing potions wasn't the ideal situation. Sirsha pressed her body harder against Lydia's and moved to her neck, lips brushing the skin. Lydia yelped when she felt fangs grazing her neck. Primal fear and vulnerability swept through her body, and Lydia wasn't sure how to act. She felt hot and what Sirsha was doing wasn't unpleasant. But Lydia didn't know what exactly her Thane planned to do or how far she planned to go. Or if she was even aware of what she was doing at all. It was so…out of character.

"My Thane," Lydia gasped in both arousal and to get her Thane's attention. Sirsha had slowly begun to rock her hips against Lydia's and moved her mouth to Lydia's ear. Sharp teeth gently tugged the cartilage, and Lydia ceased her fighting. Instead, she trembled underneath the person who commanded her most. No one had ever held in her in such a position before. She had never let them. Fear – something Lydia was quickly acquainting herself with – settled in her stomach with the light butterflies fluttering around. Hot blood pulsed through her veins, and the ever present danger of Sirsha's vampiric condition rose to the front of Lydia's quickly clouding mind.

"My Thane…I, ah….can't….can't a-allow…you to mmph!"

Sirsha captured Lydia's lips again and gained access inside her mouth. Her tongue explored every place she could access, and when she pulled back to bite Lydia's bottom lip, she drew blood and a moan from her human. The combination of reciprocated lust and blood pushed Sirsha over the edge she was barely teetering on. She ripped open Lydia's shirt and ran her hands up the smooth white expanse. Lydia broke away from Sirsha with a hiss, and Sirsha moved back to Lydia's neck.

She was tempted to continue downwards, but the pulse beating frantically against the skin bid her pause. Her tongue flicked out and caught the taste of Lydia who moaned, her own hands running along Sirsha's sides. Sirsha carefully laid a relatively chaste kiss against the pulsing vein, and her bloodlust skyrocketed. Without another thought, she sunk her fangs into the awaiting neck and groaned as hot, fresh bloody poured into her mouth.

Sharp nails dug through her dress and into her back, but Sirsha bit harder to solidify her hold. Her human cried out for help, but Sirsha wasn't too particularly interested in that. However, what _did_ capture her attention were the hairs being ripped from her head by frantic hands. Sirsha shouted when the pain became too troublesome for her to continue feeding.

"What…the fuck…is wrong…with you?" Lydia panted, still holding the contorted vampire's head at arm's length.

"I… what?" Blood still trickled down the corners of her mouth, and she looked a nightmare. A beautiful, enchanting, crimson nightmare.

Just then, the door reopened, and a male voice called out with concern and anger.

"What the hell is going on?"

**So, I know, short, stupid, idk. Sorry, I just wanted to give you guys something and then play some Skyrim myself BUT I did that in reverse order, so viola, je vous le presente. Did I say that right? Meh, oh well. I tried to work in some om nom, and that worked okay. Overall, it could have gone worse, imo. Next upload, Malora. Almost done with that first chapter. Thank you MasqueradingAsQuality for being an inspiration to me even though you probably aren't reading this. Yeah, k thx bai.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I feel like a lot of you are going to be mad at me this chapter. So, um, yeah.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own nothing 'cept my Sirsha character so ge'off mah back.**

"Tolfdir," Sirsha clipped, smoothing the front of her dress. She didn't wipe the still wet blood from her mouth nor did she move too far away from Lydia who had scrambled to the other side of the bed, covers pulled up to her chest. No, she looked the picture of calm.

"Sirsha Elsinir, explain this right now!" The old mage's fists were shaking by his side, and his normally passive demeanor was now rigid and demanding. Anger colored his scent, and Sirsha sat straighter on the bed, analyzing the situation.

"Hm, I see nothing to explain," Sirsha replied.

Lydia shivered. That voice didn't sound…elven. It had an undercurrent of power and magic, she could feel it.

"What…what are you doing?" Tolfdir had relaxed physically, but he had noticed the magic Sirsha was using. Behind him, Aranea was leaning against a wall, glaring at Lydia. Already feeling miserable and embarrassed, Lydia shrunk into the covers more. Sirsha was beginning to rise. "Stay back right now, Sirsha!"

"No." The word resonated with power and defiance. Tolfdir trembled but held his ground. He raised his hands in a defensive stance, hands glowing green and blue with magicks he was preparing to unleash.

"Sirhsa!"

"Silence, Thrall," she barked, and Tolfdir said nothing. "Calm yourself." Her power, her magic, whatever she was using, must have worked because Tolfdir relaxed but a moment later. His aged face lost its stern wrinkles, and he straightened out of his fighting stance. The glow in his hands dissipated, and he seemed nothing more than an old man.

Aranea, Lydia noticed, seemed unnerved, but she hadn't moved from her spot on the wall. When the elf caught her gaze, she sneered and turned away sharply. Sirsha didn't notice the exchange as her gaze was wholly absorbed with her "thrall."

The silence hung over the four of them for what seemed like an eternity. Lydia waited for Aranea to quip at her, but Aranea was waiting for Sirsha to say something. Tolfdir was incapable of saying or doing anything.

"Fuck."

Lydia glanced up from the hungry predator still leaning against the wall. Sirsha was shaking a little, her golden skin looking much paler than normal. If this had been a few days ago, Lydia might have tried to say something to calm the vampire. But in light of recent events, Lydia would be much more comfortable in her armor and facing Sirsha in a battle to the death, as it seemed that's what Sirsha wanted. Or so Lydia told herself.

It seemed that it was Aranea's job to comfort the trembling elf. Sirsha had taken an unsteady step backwards, one hand touching her temple.

"Sirsh," Aranea murmured, pulling the much taller elf into her arms. To Lydia's surprise, Sirsha complied in what almost appeared to be a controlled collapse. "Sirsh, it's okay. Sirsha, it'll be fine. We'll put something together."

"Oh, God, Aranea," Sirsha choked. Lydia couldn't believe what she was seeing. Sirsha was practically crying. The aloof, cool elf was reduced to such mortal emotions. "Oh God, what are we going to do? He…he was such a good…good man."

"And we can find another." Were they discussing _killing_ Tolfdir?

"You can't just kill him!" Lydia yelled.

"Silence, human!" Aranea yelled back. Her hands instinctively pulled her kin closer to her, and her red eyes were alight with hatred. "This is all _your_ fault, you know."

"_My_ fault? I was _attacked_ and molested! Don't pin this on me! Pin this on your elf friend here!"

"She's your responsibility to protect and honor, little housecarl, in case you forgot." Aranea lowered her voice into a deadly whisper. "Or perhaps you're an unworthy, useless human, like Sirsha said."

"Aranea." Sirsha finally joined in the conversation and pulled away from the Dunmer. "That is not your place to say, do you understand me?"

But the damage had been done. As a housecarl, Lydia was sworn to uphold the honor of her Thane and protect her at all costs. Her being a vampire changed absolutely nothing about the equation, as the expected outcome was the same. Lydia's personal preferences were not accounted for in the job description. So, essentially, Lydia was, as Aranea so candidly put, unworthy and useless. Not to mention a mere mortal human who could never hope to mean much to an elf, known for their long lives and, in Sirsha's case, grand lifestyles. Who was Lydia kidding? She couldn't even give her Thane a proper…meal. Which was, understandably, a bit violating, but still. She was sworn, wasn't she?

"Aranea, I need you to fill in for Tolfdir until I can locate another mage. Lydia, get dressed. You should be mostly healed by now. We're going to get out and find that bloody horn your Greybeards desire," Sirsha commanded. She had begun to compose herself, returning her cool façade to the forefront.

A dash of hurt glanced across Aranea's face as her friend stood on her own and straightened her dress.

"But, what would you have me do with the body? What is the story? How…what will happen? And why are you taking _her_ with you? Am I not enough?" Aranea was quickly becoming hysterical. Lydia could understand what it was like when someone you loved betrayed you. But, how close were they? This seemed a little much.

"Aranea, love," Sirsha chided. In a most intimate gesture that Lydia felt embarrassed to witness, Sirsha cradled her friend's cheek in her hand. Lovers. They were lovers, Lydia realized, and she felt daft for not having known earlier. Two mistresses indeed. "I need you here. I trust you and only you to this, don't you understand?"

"Ever since you came back from your first damned dragon quest, you've been different," Aranea accused. She pushed away from Sirsha and shook her head. Lydia had to remind herself that Tolfdir was still in the room. "Why won't you let me do this with you? We've overcome everything else, why not this?"

"Aranea, it isn't that simple."

"Yes it is! It's a difficult mission that needs accomplishing, and I've helped you on more than one of those."

"You're right about helping me accomplish difficult missions. We've been across all of Northern Skyrim together, but I fear that this is much more. I fear that I will go places you cannot follow, venture down roads you nor I can possibly fathom. And…" Here Sirsha seemed to visibly swallow her pride. "And I…I would be quite upset if something were to happen…to you."

Lydia was both touched and put off. It was okay, then, if _she_ were to become dinner for a hungry dragon, but not cool if Aranea were eaten. But, she did understand. Aranea had been around for a lot longer, obviously, and was therefore much more valuable than the transient human Lydia was. It still didn't make her feel any better now that she _finally_ had her way.

They drew closer, and Lydia glanced away, not wanting to witness their chaste kiss. She waited uncomfortably for the silence to end and knew it had passed when the large double doors slammed shut. Lydia glanced up from the fine covers stained with her blood and to the vampire who was both the savior of Skyrim and the source of all Lydia's problems.

"Lydia." Lydia glanced back in the direction of the two elves who had broken apart. Aranea looked placated and was leaving around the bend of the room. Sirsha looked stoic and unflustered, and it was she that had spoken. "I will not repeat myself. We leave in less than three hours."

She turned to face the enthralled Tolfdir who still sat in his chair, completely detached from reality. Sirsha studied the old man for a while, and Lydia slowly pushed herself out of bed. There was a loud bang that had Lydia pull her fists up to her face in defense. When she lowered them, she saw a dead Tolfdir on the floor, Sirsha towering over his body. There was another clang as Sirsha disappeared and then enchanted Tolfdir's body to follow the murderous mage.

Sickened and threatened, Lydia watched the mage walk around the bend and heard the doors opening, signaling their departure. Her pulse beat against her neck, and her breathing was uneven. She didn't have many options to choose from, but leaving was out of the question. She would have to wait for Sirsha to lead them out in search of the Horn before she could make a real move. Until then, she'd have to wait.


End file.
